I realized it has been a week since my last fiction piece, so I think I need to change that today! I have been focused on a non-fiction project idea, so I have been writing, just not fiction!
Start Fiction:
Ronny Anderson came flying out of the doorway of Tubby's Pub, backwards, stumbled, fell, rolled down the steps and stopped faced down on the sidewalk. Ronny wasn't a drinker, so to Jim Franklin, who was walking past and witnessed the incident, it was all the more peculiar.
"Ronny?" Jim said pushing back his hat. "What you doing down there?"
Ronny rolled over a bit. "Jim," he said. "How are you this afternoon?" Jim could see that he had a swollen eye and a busted lip.
"Well," Jim said as he leaned over, offering his hand to Ronny. "I'm guessing I doing a tad bit better than you, old man." he grabbed both of Ronny's hands and lifted him to his feet; his wobbly feet, that is.
"I would have to agree," he said as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and patted his lip. He looked at Jim and chuckled, "Nothing like the first of the month." Ronny was a landlord who was owed lots of money for past due rent from a lot of people. Typically an easy going fella, Ronny was known to only go after the long time delinquents, six months or more. And Toby Wallace had just reached month ten.
"I see Toby found better use for his paycheck," Jim said.
"Yes," Ronny said, "yes he has, but I think I have been patient enough." Ronny was still staring at the pub's door, brow furrowed a smidge. He was right, no other landlord would have let Toby go more than two months. However, Toby was the dangerous kind of tenant most landlords never wanted to get on their bad side for fear of retribution. Toby was a little off, in more ways than one; plus he was six foot seven and three hundred pounds. A giant among the locals, and he used that to his advantage.
But Ronny didn't care. It was time someone stood up to Toby Wallace, at least legally. He might be out of patience, but he wasn't out of wits. At least that is what he told himself.
"Get out of here!" Toby shouted through and open window. Jim didn't flinch; it wasn't his battle and he wanted to keep it that way. Ronny didn't flinch either. He kept his eyes focused on the door, at least with the one eye that wasn't swollen shut.
Jim tipped his hat, "Good luck, Ronny," he said and walled away.
End Fiction.
Total crap. Maybe I'll try something a little later.
Maybe...
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