Ficlets

Getting Rusty

Wednesday’s face was briefly filled with shock, but as the knife nicked her left cheek, she smiled appreciatively. “Dr. De Mort,” she exclaimed. “I do believe you are getting rusty!” She winked at the crowd. Burtininkas smiled wryly and attempted to bow. He tapped his foot in Morse Code. The end. Bow and get off my stage.

“Now, I think that was our best show, yet!” cried Mr. Edwards. Burtininkas leaned in menacingly. “Find me a new assistant.” He finished washing his face, not expecting an answer.
“Absolutely not! She has brought in more money than any other act for decades. More money than you.” There was an air of finality in his voice. Wednesday sauntered in.
“Burt. There was no need for violence.” She reprimanded him playfully as she gingerly touched the wound on her face.
“No need for violence?” He mocked. “The person who tried to impale me speaks of anti-violence! I know your game, Wednesday Thomas. And I intended on winning.”

View this story's 3 comments.