{"id":764,"date":"2010-08-03T10:31:00","date_gmt":"2010-08-03T10:31:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=764"},"modified":"2010-08-03T10:31:00","modified_gmt":"2010-08-03T10:31:00","slug":"new-flash-fiction-by-mark-reep","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/new-flash-fiction-by-mark-reep\/","title":{"rendered":"New flash fiction by Mark Reep"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><font size=\"2\"><span style=\"font-weight: bold; font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"><br \/>Better Days<\/span><br style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"><br style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"><br style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"><span style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\">The painters had taken off the switchcovers.&nbsp; I looked in the silverware drawer.&nbsp; No knives.&nbsp; A big kid in coveralls stood in the doorway unscrewing a long handle from a roller.&nbsp; Guessin\u2019 you ain\u2019t the electrician, he said.&nbsp; I said I used to live here, it was my stuff in the dumpster.&nbsp; He shook his head, sorry.&nbsp; Not on you, I said.&nbsp; You got a screwdriver?&nbsp; What for, he said.&nbsp; I flipped the dead porchlight switch, said I had a key stashed.&nbsp; He thought about it, left with the roller handle.&nbsp; In the front room tools clattered.&nbsp; He came back with a flatblade.&nbsp; The roller handle laid across his shoulder.&nbsp; I said you hit a mule with a stick, you just break the stick and piss off the mule.&nbsp; He grinned, stepped back.&nbsp; Just bein\u2019 careful.&nbsp; I said yeah, me too. &nbsp;<\/span><br style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"><br style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"><span style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\">The false back I\u2019d made for the box was a tight fit and I bent his screwdriver prying it out.&nbsp; The key was there, a small fold of bills.&nbsp; I peeled off a hundred.&nbsp; For the&nbsp; screwdriver, I said.&nbsp; The kid shook his head, made a pushing-away gesture.&nbsp; You need it worse\u2019n I do right now, he said.&nbsp; Better days, you can buy me a beer.&nbsp; I shook my head.&nbsp; Won\u2019t be around.&nbsp; He shrugged.&nbsp; Thanks, I said.&nbsp; He nodded.&nbsp; I left.&nbsp; &nbsp;<\/span><br style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"><br style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"><span style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\">Out front a beat pickup said Sullivan Constuction.&nbsp; The driver\u2019s visor was down and I put it up and tucked the hundred there. Down the block a cab stopped.&nbsp; An old man got out and the cab came on.&nbsp; I waved and it slowed but the driver changed his mind and didn\u2019t stop.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <\/span><br style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"><br style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"><br style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"><span style=\"font-weight: bold; font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\">* Mark Reep<\/span><span style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"> is an artist and writer whose work has appeared or is forthcoming in online and print publications including<span style=\"font-style: italic;\"> American Art Collector, Endicott Journal, Word Riot, Prick of the Spindle, Art Graphica, Gloom Cupboard, Full of Crow, Moon Milk Review, Girls with Insurance, Amphibi.us, Smash Cake, A-Minor, Blink\/Ink<\/span> and <span style=\"font-style: italic;\">Postcard Stories<\/span>.&nbsp; Mark lives and works in New York\u2019s Finger Lakes region.&nbsp;&nbsp; <\/span><a style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\" href=\"http:\/\/markreep.net\">http:\/\/markreep.net<\/a><span style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\">&nbsp; + <\/span><a style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\" href=\"http:\/\/markreep.blogspot.com\">http:\/\/markreep.blogspot.com<\/a><br style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"><br style=\"font-family: Courier New,Courier,mono;\"><\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Better DaysThe painters had taken off the switchcovers.&nbsp; I looked in the silverware drawer.&nbsp; No knives.&nbsp; A big kid in coveralls stood in the doorway unscrewing a long handle from a roller.&nbsp; Guessin\u2019 you ain\u2019t the electrician, he said.&nbsp; I said I used to live here, it was my stuff in the dumpster.&nbsp; He shook [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-764","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/764","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=764"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/764\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=764"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=764"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=764"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}