Haha, not sure where that story came from but that’s the beauty of your challenge. Love it. I’m aiming to join in more often. Have been fearful of doing so for a while now because I’m not as strong of a writer as you and everyone else who joins in, but I’m going to stop worrying about that and just go for it!
I don’t consider myself particularly strong writer either haha. But the beauty of micro-fiction is that it gives you a lot of room for error. You can try what style, genre, pov, or tone suit you the best. Not every dose have to be a banger. :) I’ll be happy to have you joining us more often.
As I looked at the bar selection, adorned by a large hanging human skull, I heard a shot glass slide down, cutting through the rowdy crowd. With quick reflexes I caught it with my hand.
A strong scent of cinnamon and ginger cut through the bar stench. That came from the bar special vermouth I ordered.
Without hesitation, I chugged the elixir down.
It kicked in immediately. Before I could request another shot, my mind was teleported to another dimension.
Brett sat at the dusty,dead-bug-littered bar and downed a shot. The booze resurrected memories of drinking here solo. Before S-Day, all he desired was to be alone. Brett got his wish. Broken windows, a mold-covered ceiling, and blood-coated walls surrounded him. This is what Brett thought he wanted. Brett believed the world would be a better place if everyone died, but he didn’t realize how much loneliness hurts. Brett longed to see someone without pincers, stingers, or mandibles again.
When Big Jim slid the shot down the length of his bar, he was anticipatin’ that lil’ Jimmy did his goddam job, polishin’ out the sticky spot from yesterday's fight. It wasn’t whisky, too thick. Probably blood. Course that shot slid right into that sticky spot, just as sure as shit. Spilt right onto Dan’s brand new leather holster. He were here showin’ it off not two days ago. Now look at it, splotchy and mottled like a sick cow.
Leaning against the outcropping, she gasps. A loud crack echoes, masking the direction, the trajectory. Panic sets her feet running again. Debris explodes from the trunk beside her. A split second later, the report of another shot shatters the night air.
She rounds the cliff, climbing and dropping to her belly before reaching the edge. Gun unholstered, she silently thanks the moonlight. His blond hair a beacon in the foliage.
The spent cartridge pings off the rock. Her escape cleared.
I've missed Microdosing with Miguel S! Here are 80 words for SHOT.
The bolo-tied lout belched his “offer” into Lucy’s ear
“Buy you a Jager popper?”
It was not Lucy’s first cotillion. “Three things about shots.
“One. A lady prefers a single malt.
“Two. A shot is something you don’t have.
“And three.” She nudged his hand off her knee with her Colt pistol. “I’ll give you a 45 count. After which, if your skinny jeans are not on the other side of that door, shot is something you are gonna be.”
It was a long day. Life ain't easy when you're 007. Batting at bad guys, stealing secrets and navigating laser beam fields. But when you’re a pro like me, it’s all in a day’s work. The mission? Top secret, of course. By the time I was done, I needed a drink. Something to take the edge off. A strong shot to calm the nerves.
I sat down, sighed deeply, and wrapped my little furry paw around a glass. A shot of milk. I deserve it. That red dot won’t chase itself.
A shot in the dark. Silence is a fired gun. The flames of passion shot out of a barrel of smoke singed metal. A fuselage exploded. Where the bullet landed was a mythical mystery that forensic investigators had no clue. But a heart was broken. That they knew.
The bartender slid the shot glass across the bar. “How very Hollywood,” the drunk man thought.
Too inebriated to care, he burst out laughing. “Holy, Wood,” he bellowed, pointing to his junk.
Sanity had left him 30+ shots ago.
BANG!
He slumped across the counter. Booze mixed with blood; cascading to the floor like a waterfall.
Behind his victim, the gunman stood still. His weapon smoking from the barrel.
Shot while doing a shot.
“How very Hollywood,” the deadman thought.
Thank you for joining in, sir 🫡 absolute hollywood lmao.
Haha, not sure where that story came from but that’s the beauty of your challenge. Love it. I’m aiming to join in more often. Have been fearful of doing so for a while now because I’m not as strong of a writer as you and everyone else who joins in, but I’m going to stop worrying about that and just go for it!
So that’s what I’ll do 🤝
I don’t consider myself particularly strong writer either haha. But the beauty of micro-fiction is that it gives you a lot of room for error. You can try what style, genre, pov, or tone suit you the best. Not every dose have to be a banger. :) I’ll be happy to have you joining us more often.
I’m a fan of your writing!
Cool :) is it best to reply to the post or restack with note?
Whichever is more comfortable for you :)) Restacking has a higher chance to bring more people to me tho haha.
He is surprised it was so easy to get this close. Crowds mill about mere yards below, oblivious.
Hefting the AR-15 he sights the unmistakable face of his target. 1200 dollars to change the world.
Just as he pulls the trigger, a sudden blur, like something passing in front of him, the slightest nudge and voice in his ear.
“He’s one of mine, sorry kid.”
More shots sound. Bullets rip into him and he dies smelling sulphur.
That’s a clever one. I like it.
Thanks Miguel! i was struggling for a while but something came to me just in time!
The boy ran up the stairs. His shoes tapped on the wooden steps.
He wiped his sweaty forehead. Then he brushed his hair.
He stopped in front of a glass door. He could see the mist of his breath.
The lady inside waved at him.
He entered the room, and his shaky right hand reached into his pocket.
On the table, he laid out two empty ampoules and a syringe.
The lady looked at him, shocked.
“I said one shot!”
PROMPT: SHOT
THE SHOT
It was going to be a difficult shot.
There were lots of obstructions blocking his line of sight, but as soon as a head popped into view he’d be ready.
He just needed to be patient, and wait for the perfect opportunity.
He just hoped he could hold his nerve.
Every moment he stayed in this position, he was risking being spotted, and all his careful planning would be ruined.
Sometimes, he wished he’d never become a rare wildlife photographer… 😎
Haha perfectly wholesome twist 😁
Haha! Thanks! It's always fun to play around with words that have multiple meanings... 😎
As I looked at the bar selection, adorned by a large hanging human skull, I heard a shot glass slide down, cutting through the rowdy crowd. With quick reflexes I caught it with my hand.
A strong scent of cinnamon and ginger cut through the bar stench. That came from the bar special vermouth I ordered.
Without hesitation, I chugged the elixir down.
It kicked in immediately. Before I could request another shot, my mind was teleported to another dimension.
can i get some of that
If only I knew where they served that!
“You’ve only got one shot, ya know.”
His trainer’s words rang through the sniper’s mind as he aimed at the target, a serial killer who had just been released from prison.
Shamelessly, the killer had paraded himself around town like a peacock.
“I’ve done my time,” he’d say with laughter in his eyes.
Time. Time was what he’d robbed from his victims.
“You can do your time,” said the sniper. He slowly placing a finger on the trigger. “For eternity.”
“Scorps: Barfly”
Brett sat at the dusty,dead-bug-littered bar and downed a shot. The booze resurrected memories of drinking here solo. Before S-Day, all he desired was to be alone. Brett got his wish. Broken windows, a mold-covered ceiling, and blood-coated walls surrounded him. This is what Brett thought he wanted. Brett believed the world would be a better place if everyone died, but he didn’t realize how much loneliness hurts. Brett longed to see someone without pincers, stingers, or mandibles again.
weird ... whats going on there...
“Sticky Spot”
Microdose Shot 80 words
When Big Jim slid the shot down the length of his bar, he was anticipatin’ that lil’ Jimmy did his goddam job, polishin’ out the sticky spot from yesterday's fight. It wasn’t whisky, too thick. Probably blood. Course that shot slid right into that sticky spot, just as sure as shit. Spilt right onto Dan’s brand new leather holster. He were here showin’ it off not two days ago. Now look at it, splotchy and mottled like a sick cow.
Yes, we do that in Venezuela. 🇻🇪
Leaning against the outcropping, she gasps. A loud crack echoes, masking the direction, the trajectory. Panic sets her feet running again. Debris explodes from the trunk beside her. A split second later, the report of another shot shatters the night air.
She rounds the cliff, climbing and dropping to her belly before reaching the edge. Gun unholstered, she silently thanks the moonlight. His blond hair a beacon in the foliage.
The spent cartridge pings off the rock. Her escape cleared.
I've missed Microdosing with Miguel S! Here are 80 words for SHOT.
I missed you participating!
The bolo-tied lout belched his “offer” into Lucy’s ear
“Buy you a Jager popper?”
It was not Lucy’s first cotillion. “Three things about shots.
“One. A lady prefers a single malt.
“Two. A shot is something you don’t have.
“And three.” She nudged his hand off her knee with her Colt pistol. “I’ll give you a 45 count. After which, if your skinny jeans are not on the other side of that door, shot is something you are gonna be.”
It was a long day. Life ain't easy when you're 007. Batting at bad guys, stealing secrets and navigating laser beam fields. But when you’re a pro like me, it’s all in a day’s work. The mission? Top secret, of course. By the time I was done, I needed a drink. Something to take the edge off. A strong shot to calm the nerves.
I sat down, sighed deeply, and wrapped my little furry paw around a glass. A shot of milk. I deserve it. That red dot won’t chase itself.
nice one!
Thank you!! 🐱 ✨
I love this 😍 we don’t have enough cat 🐈 protagonists 🥹
Hehe thank you!!! 🐱 ✨
Nice twist.
Thank you!! ✨✨
Haha! That's a fun one. Great little twist at the end there... 😺😎😺
Hahaha thanks!! My mind always go to cats haha
A shot in the dark. Silence is a fired gun. The flames of passion shot out of a barrel of smoke singed metal. A fuselage exploded. Where the bullet landed was a mythical mystery that forensic investigators had no clue. But a heart was broken. That they knew.