{ Denise gracefully hosts Six Sentence Stories, where writers unleash their magic under one simple rule: in no more or no less than 6 sentences.
This week’s prompt word is : EXCHANGE

This week’s story is special as it is what I offer in my first soc challenge…Clark & Ford also participating
… my first sentence is by Clark , Clark’s first sentence is by me, Ford’s first and sixth …yeah, you guessed it…courtesy of Denise…who enters the dance with the remaining two sentences from the 3 both Clark and I sent her!! 
full glorious moon…accoutrements at the ready…12.30 am … fun! }


The driver of the car, characteristically failing to wait for confirmation from the owner of the car that there would, in fact, be a verbal exchange, bounced his question off his rear view mirror at a volume sufficient to cut through the road noise, radio music and the give-and-take between the occupants of the ’57 Chevy, as it peeled out from the asphalt parking lot.


Back to the safe house, boss?” his words in tandem with the handbreak left turn leaving Baker St into a tin pan alley, just in time to escape the sirens announcing the manic red & blue lights.


The stare of the owner of the matt black Chevy was enough to silence the front seat, while his words did a bit more than that: “ Cool your driving  – Plan B, to the airstrip…& you better have not forgotten to fuel up & have on stand by the Lady or I swear to God, you gonna find out if you have wings on your back.”


Without taking her eyes from the road, she touched his forearm, firmly, affectionately, not minding the blood on his sleeve as it was the trembling she wanted to ease off him; they looked at each other with the charged understanding only by souls bound by Fates,  while she whispered :”It’s ok, it’s ok.”


The sins of the father…in his mind cinema theatre now playing the night his father after loosing a poker game to the Senator’s son (who now is…was…the head of the Senate’s Gambling Committee) grabbed a bottle of bourbon, sat outside his home leaving that bastard with his daughter, alone, inside…baby brother wondered why his sister told him to hurry down the basement and blast the radio at full volume;
“We are what we settle with” tells now his sister silently, holding her hand with  bloodied fingers, taking in every bit of warmth & love; “We are home free baby” his sister shouted over the idling sound of propellers as she vaulted out of the car towards the Lady.


“ Yes, you are” replied the man who could not forget, nodding to his driver to secure his sister in the plane; poor guy, he’s gonna get his ass kicked thought watching her struggling against the driver’s hold, the only thing preventing her from jumping out of a moving airplane; sirens in the distanceclosing in as he waved to the airborne Lady behind his Chevy’s wheel…Ford’s a solid guy – everyone laughed when he said he would bring hand grenades to the party…everyone but them two…
max revs…final gear…pins pulled)…later.



PS: stopwatch at 31’23



About Spira

A Renaissance human. Part healer, part B/W photographer, part artist, part sigh of a writer, part explorer of guitar & piano landscapes, always in love with music..."Music is the fabric that clothes our lives" as Denise Farley once wrote. All done with the dedication, intensity & passion of an imperfect speck of cosmic debris.

30 responses »

  1. This has noir written all over it, Nick! Your soundtrack is perfect – kind of sad/hopeful with a dash o uncertainty yet finished with a burst of “we got this”, at the end.

    So who’s gonna take the heat for offing the Senator’s son? Will we have a follow up installment?
    Inquiring minds want to know!

    P.S. You did mention grenades so we’re going to want to be in on that action, lol

    Liked by 1 person

    • Denise…you hit the nail on the head with your first seven (7) words!

      Allow me to back up a little..well, more than a little lol
      …ever since I was a child I loved black and white, loved it; never lost that love.
      They tried though – I remember an exchange with the arts teacher at high school, telling me arts was not a field I was suitable for…just because I refused to work with the stupid color palette she assigned.
      Send that lady a Dom with a card of inSPIRAtion!
      They tried…was shooting in B/W film…who the #@*% does that when terrabytes of photos are free of cost?
      Yes, that’s me again…but guess what…there may be a book coming out of it…ya know?
      You…here at the Six Sentence Stories, in this real place in a virtual world…and the company of storytellers & wordsmiths you host…you have not tried at all…au contraire.

      [Clark, does this count for a second Six you asked?]

      So Denise, your comment helped me to realize the tendency I have, the color of my Six voice. Yes, noir! Thank you!!
      (At the end of this comment I will paste a link to what kind of narration I am partial to…Sin City)

      Thelma & Louise…soundtrack of the ending scene…does it get more real than that? N-frickin-o!

      Me following the challenge rules (30 minutes etc) am to blame for any ambiguity of the ending – proof reading Nick, proof reading…no such thing in this instance!
      The heat is all for the man who could not forget. Things got… messy, as he delivered to the Senator’s son his earnings.
      Hence, Plan B!
      The set of grenades (nod to Ford for his reply at the Thread) are right next to him…as he rides his Chevy flat out towards the end of the airstrip and after seeing his sister safely transported in the Lady…he pulls the pins out of all of them grenades…still resting next to him…(close up on a slight, almost indistinguishable smile on his face / silent explosion engulfing everything/ ‘we got this” part of the soundtrack)…Later.

      Again, thank you for being the heart and soul of SSS.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. The kind of Six I’m always trying to write and succeed doing just frequently enough to keep me coming back to the keyboard to try again.
    As Denise alluded to, nice work with the noir…sensibilities* but, to weave in the relationships and such… very cool. (Made me think of Michael Moorcock who practically invented steampunk fiction, back in the ’60s.

    My hat off to you, Proprietor Nick!

    *surely not the correct term in rhetoric in this context, but feels right… somehow

    Liked by 2 people

    • Clark*…!
      (may I refer you back to my reply to you at Nascent?)

      And…yes, the noir thing…valid point; more about that in my reply to Denise.
      /Sensibilities in our realm seems about just right a word/

      I thank you humbly Proprietor Clark. Once again: By the company I keep!
      And a big thank you for an inspiring first sentence!

      *you keep pushing me exploring seas never visited before…frightening…nahh…thank ye!

      Liked by 1 person

    • No need to lay off Jenne! They provide additional perspective!!

      Humbly, thank you.
      Well, if you be so kind to take a look at the end of my (lengthy) response to Denise, you will see what you need to know.🙂

      Liked by 2 people

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  4. Must bring more ‘pineapples’ to the next party 😁

    Could feel the noir, but also a touch of colour from 1960s Bond, and some deep reds from The Batman.

    You did brilliant, considering the challenge that was set!

    Liked by 1 person

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