Dead White Girl

My entry in this week’s Flash! Friday The photo below was the prompt and “comeuppance” had to be incorporated somewhere within the story. 160 word max as usual. My story didn’t make it onto the winner’s page this time due to the other writers kicking some serious ass. Impressive.

Berlin, Rückkehr Emil Jannings aus Amerika

The crowd was amped. Charged with an energy sourced from an antiquated interpretation of true justice. They demanded a pound of flesh tonight, or in the case of Donald Boone, 167 pounds of black flesh. They waited impatiently for the flickering of lights. Blood for blood.

The horde of salivating pale skin ignored the backstory. The judge with an agenda and a noon tee time. The unprepared and lethargic public defender. The dubious evidence. A jury that was socially programmed to convict black defendants when a white princess was murdered. A verdict rendered from decades of false assumptions and simmering emotions. A reckoning.

The chemicals raged through the killer’s veins, a thirsty liquid bullet. His name was scrawled in a ledger. The mob roared with delight, their anger supplanted by glee. They began to disperse and head back to their life of privilege while the killer was still on the gurney. The fluorescent lights illuminating the husk of a former human being.


2 thoughts on “Dead White Girl

  1. The prose shows flashes of someone that might be well-versed to dig deeper into some Pollock-like Southern Gothic work. “thirsty liquid bullet” and “167 pounds of black flesh,” were the standout lines for me.

    Unrelated, digging the new style for your blog. It’s slick.

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