Another week has dribbled by and it’s time for another snippet based upon the #1lineWed theme over on Twitter. Today, it’s all about brotherhood, bands of brothers, brotherly love, etc. Interestingly enough, a bit of flash fiction I wrote on Monday fits the theme. FYI, I won the Judge’s Pet award for the following. If you are curious as to how one of the flash fiction challenges I participate in works, go check it out. This particular one is based on 3 prompts: a picture, a phrase, and a prompt by the judge–in this case a music video. Anyway, CHECK IT OUT HERE. Today’s bit is an unconnected snippet from the Russian side of my eventual Moonstruck Mafia series. I hope you enjoy.
Viktor glimpsed the back room through a door left ajar. That was more like Chinatown. Three old men, their faces wreathed by the smoke of the unfiltered cigarettes held between their lips, played cards. Out here, in the main room, he was caught in a Fellini movie—walls covered in Sixties pop art band posters, the Grateful Dead singing on the jukebox while tattooed Triad members wore their slick suits and looked tough. A sloe-eyed beauty, a rose tucked above her ear, occupied the stool next to where he stood. The bartender placed another drink in front of her and she gulped it down.
“Does it help?”
She laughed, a brittle sound that grated on his ears. “What do you think?”
“I think this is not the place for a girl like you.”
“Yeah? Goes to show what you know.” She caught the bartender’s attention with a lift of her chin and a raised finger. He returned her summons with a narrow-eyed look but delivered her drink a few moments later. She gulped this one as well. “Know what I think?”
He waited, without comment. wanting only to finish his business in this place so he could return to Brighton Beach where his Bratva brothers wore their hard-won ink like men rather than peacocks.
“I think you need to just keep on truckin’.”
One of the old men finally glanced up from the fan of cards in his hand. A soundless message passed between him and one of the peacocks, who gestured Viktor into the inner sanctum. He could now execute his orders. Mikhail had been content to let the Triads rule in Chinatown, left them to their number running, drug sales and opium dens, and protection rackets. But the ruling council had crossed the line so Viktor was here to deliver Mikhail’s message.
He shut the door in the peacock’s face and locked it. Show time.
And that’s how flash fiction works, though if you scrolled down to read my original on Cara’s blog, you’ll see that this was originally 250 words. I added a bit to the next to last paragraph. Writers, to have any brother words to share? Readers, what’s your favorite series that features brothers?