This was it. The trail ended here. Back at grand-dad’s old place. Not sure how he managed it from his sick-bed but it was just like him. A final hunt. Pit us against each other. Bastard. He’s probably watching. From hell. Laughing.
Enough with the reminiscing. I needed to find that key. What was that last clue?
I won’t be foiled again. Mighty he may be but today the laughs on me.
I tried to calmly scan the basement. Foiled? Aluminum, maybe. No.
Then it hit me. A rare happy memory. Oil Can Harry!
“Coises!” I’m gonna be rich.
This fun flash fiction (100 words exactly) was inspired by the PHOTO PROMPT © Nick Allen provided by Rochelle’s Friday Fictioners.
With a little extra boost from FOWC (trail)
And a special assist from Mighty Mouse’s chief bad guy Oil Can Harry.
Tina Stewart Brakebill 