Flashes of Sanity #82: Analysis in Multiple Variables

Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your weekly (during July it is daily!) dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.

Today’s entry: Analysis in Multiple Variables


Okay, her father had taught her one thing; when in a though spot, analyze.

The process was simple. Go through every scenario. Find the best option. Then run as hell.

She put her pen to the paper. She drew a square.

I could just run, she thought. Take the run as hell part literary. She looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of the pack hovering over the dustbin fire.

Yeah, she thought, not an option. She made the square into a house.

How about option number dos? Turning herself in and ending this macabre journey into mystery. One Google search on the man she killed made her sure that was no option either. The people wanted blood for the one who killed their favorite hero.

The house needed a family of stick figures. It got a dog too.

That leaved one option.

The obvious road is often the correct one, her father used to say. Often when deciding on where to eat. Always Italian. Always Giorgino’s. Always pasta scallops.

She did not think he thought of these kinds of decisions when saying it.

But still it was her only road ahead with her life still intact. She glanced at the group again.

Well at least they have a dog. A tailless drooling dog who ate children for breakfast. But a dog none the less.

It was actually kind of cute.

”Hey!” One of the grunts shouted as he noticed her looking at them. ”Have you decided yet?”

Shit, she thought. Shit. Shit.

The house with a stick figure family went up in flames.

”Yeah,” one of the others said. ”We have been waiting for hours.”

”I hope you are not trying to run away.” She could hear the sharpness in the words, the eagerness to kill. ”I don’t like runners.”

She got up on her shaky feet.

Be stunning, she told herself. She touched the tazers in her hands. She knew they were useless against these crooks but still it gave her comfort.

”I have thought about your proposal,” she said. ”I think we need a good name for our gang.”

The gangsters cheered at her decision. The cop killer, who else could be best suited to lead them?

No one was their answer.

Everyone was at her disposal.

The dog got up on his back legs and drowned her face and body in saliva.

What the hell, she thought. I am the best there is.

”Stunning Blonde!” Echoed through the allies.

Faces appaered from the darkness. They joined in.

”Stunning Blonde and the Thunders!”

A new leader had joined their ranks.

A cop killer.

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