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|Posted on March 4, 2012 at 9:25 PM|
The following story is for a picture prompt with a maximum of 300 words to tell the tale.
by E. A. Irwin
Heat makes you do strange things. So do dames. Throw in a snub-nose heater and shit happens.
Veronica flirted with danger like she flirted with men. A skirt with a hip-swayin' walk and cherry-colored pout made Ziggy Ambertone fall hard. Veronica draped his arm like flashy jewelry. Hitch was, Ziggy’s jewelry tarnished quickly and if he couldn’t buy it new, he stole.
Nobody stole from Fingers Magee, especially the skirt Veronica. He owned her. Had the goods on her once she’d squirted metal into her rival Lana Dewbury at the Tip Top Club. He’d forgive lead chillin' another dame, made sex dangerous, but breezin' off to become Ziggy’s kitten made her dead.
They made a clean sneak, tradin' Chicago for Havana heat, to avoid wearing wooden kimonos. Word on the street: Ziggy nicked the skirt, but Veronica stole enough ice off Fingers to break his bank. Two chiselers were two too many in Fingers’ world.
Moonless night. Humidity thick enough to cut in a Cuban lagoon. Ziggy and Veronica slammed back jingle juice in the backwater dive unaware Magee’s button man made them faster than a grifter settin' his mark.
Magee’s fingers itched on his roscoe. He’d rather watch Ambertone and Veronica do a rope dance but drillin' was faster, this kill personal. From the shadows, he rubbed sweat from his brow and took aim.
Chicago lightning split the night. When dawn hit, Ziggy and Fingers lay blown down from the rain of lead. I just had to wait for nightfall and row my skiff out to at sea before flies swarmed the blue net coverin' the bodies. Ziggy and Fingers never were good with heat, bein' from Chicago. I lived for it. I had my ice back along with Veronica. No one stole from Raul Hornedo and lived.
©E. A. Irwin
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