In 2018, I put together a simple draw to challenge myself (and anyone else who wanted to try) with flash fiction prompts made up of three suits of cards, shuffled and drawn. The clubs denoted a genre, the diamonds were an object, and the hearts were...
This set of cards—A crime caper, a compass, and a soup kitchen—didn't result in a story really coming naturally, but in the end, I had fun writing it. Also I put many of my New Orleans and New York author friends in the roles because why not?
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Gone to Hell
"I need a lock man."
"No men around."
"I'm standing right here."
"And I'm not?"
"Fine, Jean. Lockwoman. Want to take down Whitman?"
"This your idea?"
"Yes."
"Fine."
*
"We'll only need you if it goes to hell."
"Flattering. When doesn't it go to hell?"
"Greg."
"Is this yours, or Rob's plan?"
"All me. Don't you want to see Whitman go down?"
"You got yourself a driver."
*
"Don't even think about it."
"Not thinking. I'm asking. You're the best pickpocket."
"I want nothing to do with Rob."
"It's my plan."
"What?"
"You know Whitman?"
"Senator Whitman?"
"He's the mark, Carol."
"I'm in."
"Great."
"Brady? Here's your wallet."
*
"She married the richest man in the city."
"Whitman isn't who he pretends to be."
"How do you...? Tell me you didn't."
"Pillow talk is information gathering, Gillian."
"Gross."
"Yes. Gross."
"Rob have anything to do with this?"
"No."
"Good. Rob makes you dumb. So. 'Fatale' or something more...approachable?"
"You ever consider social work?"
*
Hélène Whitman's deigning to spend time in a soup kitchen was a bland story, but given her husband's politics it became blood-in-the-water for journo sharks. Whitman was opposed to handouts, reducing support for those less fortunate. Pretty trophy wife does something political husband opposes?
