Flashes of Sanity #158: Lone Wolf

Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your daily dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.

Today’s entry: Lone Wolf


It took Donald a while, but he finally found an empty apartment complex where he could make his new office. He chose a room high up with a good view over the surrounding streets. The room had a coffee brewer. And after searching the kitchen, he also found the holy black powder itself.
The apartment filled with the heavenly scent as Donald sat himself on a chair by the window.
What should I do?
The question surfaced more to jug his memory than to trigger a brainstorm. The pressing question regarding Sam’s revenge was over. Now, he could take care of more personal matters.
Highest on his list was the board members that kicked him of SurgeRay. Those bastards were no saints. They probably wished they were now when they knew he was back and coming for them.
Then it was the successors of SurgeRay. Mart Adamson was finished. Gary Oliviallo was probably a saint. That left Susanne Queen.
That witch hides somewhere, Donald thought as he scanned the horizon. I will find her no matter where it is.
On the window sill lay the quarter of a crown Dale had given him.
Donald’s face still burned at the thought of Dale breaking the crown.
Such a good weapon, wasted.
At least he knew where it was. If necessary, Donald would have to track them down. Only Dale himself would be problematic in that case.
On one of the buildings, Donald still could see the aftermath of Sam’s flames against the world.
“Where are you now Sam?” Donald asked and smiled. “Scattered on the street. A soul without a home?”
“Feeling confident?”
Donald turned to the man entering the room. “After this win, Carl? Who wouldn’t?”
“True, but you still owe me that suit.”
Donald laughed. “You chose to follow me because of a suit?”
“Of course, these rags are barely holding together.”
“Don’t you worry Carl. I know a place where you will find a good suit.”
The coffee brewer went silent. Donald arose and picked a cup from the sink. He filled it. In his head, he began a list of all board members that needed their head removed. And preferably crushed.
He whistled.
It was a good day to be Donald Diamond.

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Copyright © David B. Johansson 2021

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