The American Dream – 207 words
“You can find a better life here,” they’d said. “Work hard and you can achieve anything you set your mind to,” they’d promised.
But he’d never overcome their prejudices. Not really. He’d always been an outsider and always would be, his accent, his clothing, his food preferences betraying him at every turn.
She’d never cared. She hadn’t seen him as an immigrant. She’s seen a friend, and then, later, a lover.
He’d told her time and again it wouldn’t work, that they couldn’t last. That her father would kill them if he ever found out.
“Times are changing,” she’d argued. “You’ll see. I love you. You love me. That’s all we need, right?”
He’d held her close, saying nothing. There was nothing to say. He knew it would come to this. He’d always known.
He stood, facing down the shotgun, black eyes meeting blue across the barrel.
A scream echoed. He heard her feet running, her desperate cries for her father to stop.
But he knew that look in his adversary’s eyes. It was now or never. Everything boiled down to this moment.
He saw her pull on her father’s arm, saw the man hesitate.
At that moment, he picked up the axe. And swung.
Yup. I wrote TWO stories for this week’s Flash Friday Fiction competition. Don’t know that either one will resonate with the judges, but I had fun anyway. What do you think?