NaNoWriMo Warmup Drabble #6–Operation Murder

DSC02198

Image by washuugenius via Flickr

This one seemed a bit reminiscent of an earlier drabble I did, so I opted for an alternate meaning for one of the theme elements.  I almost skipped this prompt in favor of a different one but decided to remain true to my plan and gut it out.

“What if you’re going to write a story about power with a policeman as the main character and an old pair of shoes as the key object?  Set your story in the operating room.”

The OR lights winked out; equipment whined as it powered down.

“No power other than backup lighting?  Strange.”

“Good thing we hadn’t started.”

The door swung open and a man burst in.  He wore a rumpled trench coat and clenched an unlit cigar in his teeth.

“You can’t come in here!”  A nurse bustled to intercept him but halted when he and a second man flashed police badges.

“Sorry to interrupt.  Everyone please remove and hand your shoes to my associate.  One of you is an imposter, a killer with a distinctive tread pattern about to cover his tracks, literally.

Whew, that one was work!  Can you tell I was an old Columbo fan?  I really need to write a cozy.

And purists, please don’t tell me the cop needed a search warrant to require them to remove their shoes.  Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t.  I don’t research 100 word ditties, so just suspend any disbelief you might have.  Sorry.

NaNoWriMo Warmup Drabble #5

Krakovian Coffee Shop

Image by DesheBoard via Flickr

Now for a touch of romance (awww):

“Make this the first line of your story:  Catching the signal from one of her friends, Angela brushed her skirt, took a deep breath and walked towards where he was sitting.”

Catching the signal from one of her friends, Angela brushed her skirt, took a deep breath and walked towards where he was sitting.  This was it.  Do or die.  Sink or swim.  No more shrinking violet.

Three tables separated them.  His dark head rotated slowly right to left as he scanned the room.  He hadn’t seen her yet.

Two tables away.  He sipped his drink and wiped his mouth, always the tidy one.

One more table.  The text message her friend sent him arrived.  His head shot up.  Their eyes met and he smiled.

“I hoped it would be you.”