Blast

Em stood with a smile, her body gently swaying to the beat. All around her, people were smiling, happy, enjoying the music to the fullest. She was too, the music was great, the people were trippy, and more importantly, her target was too.

Maneuvering the crowd to get closer to him was a struggle. But she was no slacker, she would get the job done, and she’d do it with a smile.

When adequately close, Em did a once-over of her target. He was sufficiently drunk, not enough to have lost coherency, but enough to make it easy for her. Looking around, and after determining the crowd’s inefficiency, she got to work.

Loud music and even louder crowds turned out in her advantage. She just walked up to him, pretended to care for her ‘boyfriend’ when he looked like he was about to pass out. After that, getting him away from the crowd was albeit hard, but she persevered.

She made her way out, grinning like a maniac. It’d be a while until the cops found his body.

She’d have a blast. After all, she was doing no wrong, just righting an injustice.

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Word Count: 193

Written as a response to Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner, hosted by Rodger. To read other stories of this prompt, click here.

History

History was fascinating, she thought as she walked around the ancient museum. Her eyes were taking in all the glorious relics of the past, her mind whirling at their significances throughout. Her legs were straying too far, her hands were twitching by her side.

She was engrossed in the beautiful display before her, and in her haste in taking in everything before her, she was separated from her group. She shrugged, it didn’t matter, it wasn’t like they’d notice her missing, after all.

She looked around, noticing everything other than the historical relics. All around her were people like her, fascinated by the priceless objects around her, impressed and engrossed in the display. She smiled looking at one particular item, perfect.

Alarms blared around her, and everyone around stared at her in disgust and rage. To steal something from a museum this rich and especially that item was a heinous act and if she might be so arrogant, an impossible one. The easy part was done, now remained the hard aspect. But she was prepared, she’d been prepared for a long time.

History was fascinating, she thought as she executed her escape plan, and she’d guaranteed her place in it.

Word Count: 200

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Written as a response to Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by the lovely Susan. To read other entries of this prompt, click here.