Posted by: writingwitch2013 | March 25, 2015

VisDare 91: Borys’s finest hour

image

150words
Flash fiction

Borys’s finest hour.

Like his forefathers, Borys had a special job, although his sense of duty wasn’t as deep rooted as theirs.
All he had to do was play a tune on the trumpet, on the hour, from 6am until midnight, in the town square.
The town hall clock chimed every hour, but because of some ancient tradition involving, watch tower, invaders, trumpeter ancestor alerting the villages and losing his own life, he was expected to carry it on.
It was the perfect job for lazy Borys’s unqualified, sloppy attitude. He couldn’t be bothered to walk up to the tower to play the trumpet, and was usually seen sleeping on a bench, waking only to play on the hour.
Yet amazingly he saved the town…
Not through heroism, but by not playing the trumpet. All thanks to bad timing and the stupidity of invaders, who slit his throat just before the hour.

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Responses

  1. Ulp! So neatly done – I love a twist that doesn’t rely on the reader having been fooled.

    • Thanks Alex. Appreciate your comment. Your flash fiction is so good, the comment means even more 🙂


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