Sunday, February 3, 2013

The Bitch, the Beach, and the Cub Scout

Karl spotted the woman and boy through the rifle sight. He knew three things about the witch. Her ass was way too big to be wearing a thong, the kid wasn't his, and she and her lawyer shouldn't have stole his money. He'd taken care of the lawyer. Now it was her turn.

He found her easily. She always complained about not going to that famous Daytona Beach.

"Bitch," Karl mumbled.

The boy giggled and ran away from the waves. Karl lowered the rifle, wiped the salty sweat from his eyes, and smiled. Maybe tomorrow would be better, he thought.

**This story is part of the Flash Jab drabble ( a story of exactly 100 words) challenge. Read the other stories here —

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