Late for Work

Flash fiction - Dialogue
March 4, 2015

"Wait, wait. Go back a step. Explain what happened. Slowly," he said.

I was not in the mood for slowly. Slowly meant that I would miss my bus and be late for my second week at my new job. I sighed. He did not give me a chance to move.

"I went to the store, and saw some strange fellows over by the other side of the road."

"Strange how?" he asked.

"Strange like…" I shrugged, "hooded and distant, talking all conspiratorially. You know, like they do."

He gave a weak smile and jotted down a few notes in his little field note pad, black cover and textless on the outside.

"And then what?"

"You know, I really have to go. Can we do this another time?"

"I'm afraid I can't let you go until you've answered these few questions. It's really simple."

"No, but I…" I started to argue but he lowered his gaze in response and I stopped. "They took out a gun."

"Okay," he said, writing down a little more.

"And started threatening us."


"The gun?"

He sighed. "What were they saying?"

I grimaced. "Sh—, I don't remember. Saying how we should stay calm or they had to take action or something."


I heard a sound of a vehicle by our right.

"Fucking hell, that was my bus right there," I said, glancing at the yellow thing driving by us. He glanced at it with the briefest of looks.

"Well, then you've got plenty of time, don't you?"

I glared at him. He didn't react.

"They threatened the cashier and he started pulling out money. They put it in a black bag."

He glanced beside me, nodding again.


"And then they got shot."

"By whom?"

"Certainly not by you."

"That wasn't what I asked."

"I know."

"Who shot them?" he repeated.

I glanced back at the store we were still standing in front of, my legs shaking a little from adrenaline, my hands empty and clutched.

"I did."

He stared at me for the longest time.

"With what?"

"Their gun."

"How did you get it?"

"They dropped it and I picked it up."


I furrowed my brow and stared incredulously.

"Because they were threatening us?"

"And you weren't afraid?"

I chuckled. "I am not afraid of two bad robbers who drop guns during their op, no."

"Who are you?"

"I said I won't tell you that."

"So you just shot them? They dropped their gun and you picked it up and fired rounds?"

I nodded once, slowly. That little I could give him.

"So you weren't afraid of them, and you shot them," he stated. I wasn't sure if he was telling me or convincing himself.

"Both correct."

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to arrest you."

I glanced at the road, seeing if another bus was coming. My boss was going to be pissed.

"I know."


I think this is the first one I'm really happy with. It took a while to get it going, but once I realized what I was writing I got super into it. It was also the one that took the most editing because I wanted to improve it over the first draft, which was a little rough, even if the base idea was still there. Only thing I'm not that pleased about is the title.

It's also another example of a "broken" person, even if this one is significantly more subtle (and dangerous). This one probably borders on mentally deranged, actually, when you think about what's really going on. I wonder how she got that job.