• Login
  • Register
  • 0 items
  • Shotgun Honey

  • Fiction
  • Books
  • Authors
  • Extras

Flash Fiction

Denied

Karen Harrington

My dad lay dying, intermittently mumbling short bursts of information. Missing my mother. Lots about Jonathan, my older brother. The favorite with a tech start-up. His worry over the youngest, Claire. She’d been spoiled into addiction and until recently, was still getting payments from the Bank of Dad. I waited for my name to rally forth, but it never came. Like always. Growing up, I thought I was the family dog.  There, under the table, listening, waiting for someone to say my name. Maybe I should’ve spoken up.

I absorbed Dad’s worry as my siblings texted me for updates. Should I come now? Do you know how long?

Jonathan searched for cheap flights. Got to find something affordable, sis.

Claire marshaled social media sympathy. Friends, this is SO hard.

I placed my phone near Dad’s ear so he could ease into the next plane listening to music. Suddenly, he clutched my hand.

“Did we do the right thing?” he asked.

“Dad, what?”

“You, you more than anyone, you will understand, won’t you? You’ll help them now.”

“What do you mean?”

“The signed Stephen King. On the shelf. Find it. No one else knows.”

He settled back, slowly releasing his grip on my hand. He took his last breath as the sun rose.

Two weeks later, we gathered at Dad’s house. It should have been earlier, but Jonathan pushed the funeral back three days. It will be more convenient for me, Sis.

He’d found those cheap flights.

And Claire? At least 75 people were Facebook weeping over her loss.

I steeled myself for the day, hiding in the kitchen, binge-eating chips.

“You’re going to get fat. And the toilet roll in the bathroom is all wrong.” I looked up to see Claire.

“How’s that?” I asked.

“You’ve got it flipped the wrong way.”

“Did you fix it?”

“Well, no. Not my house.”

“Right.”

I carried a plate of sandwiches to the dining room.

“Everyone settle in,” Jonathan said. In all the rush, I’d forgotten Dad’s last words.

The signed Stephen King. Find it.

I slipped away and retrieved the book from the bookcase. Inside, there was an envelope from the state lottery commission. The shocking revelation might have caused the average person to show her hand. But not the loyal dog. My parents had won a thirty-five-million-dollar lottery. There were bank deposit slips and several transactions. From what I could tell, they’d given almost all of the money away.

Almost.

The papers said it was a private account, accessible only through a specific attorney. All the details were there.

I stepped toward the dining room. There were cracks in the ceiling. Paneled walls from a bygone era. You’d never know they had great wealth. Dad said I would understand. I would help them.

No one else knows.

“Jonathan, you don’t get an equal share,” Claire spat. “You got an advance on your inheritance to buy your house.”

“That’s private!” Jonathan snapped.

Claire shrugged. “I guess not.”

“It says here divide equally among my children,” Jonathan waved a piece of paper. “Besides, you went through a lot of dough for bail money and then rehab. Twice.”

That had to sting.

            “What do you think, Sis?” Claire asked.

“About what?” I asked.

“The distribution. Dad can’t have meant that the remainder of his estate is equal. You were with him. Did he clarify anything?”

They stared at me. The money debate might go on all night with drinking and shouting and me, alone in the kitchen washing dishes, putting away food. Taking care of everyone else’s mess.  

I’d inherited a family secret. I could change their lives in an instant.

Or not.

“Well, did he say anything because my livelihood is on the line,” Jonathan shouted.

“I need to know how much now!” Like always, Claire.

There are a lot of ways to die, I thought.

I’d experienced the death of a thousand slights.

But to deny someone? That’s another way to kill. Slowly.

“He said he wanted me to have the Stephen King.” I clapped the book shut.

The oldest got all the praise.

The youngest got all the attention.

But middle sister gets all the money.

Read More

In the Frame

Linda McMullen

Two in the Streets

Bobby Mathews

Ground Beef

Amanda Silverman Kosior

Philippine Farewell

Devin Misko

One Bad Spin

April Snellings

The Naughty List

J.B. Stevens

OUTSOURCING

James Blakey

Fore!

Alan Orloff

Vic Has Got to Die

Lawrence Allan
Ted Flanagan

Pothole

Ted Flanagan

Getting Your Money’s Worth

A.D. Schweiss

From Lombard to Lebkuchen (circa 1998)

Kieran Shea

Short Timer

David Tromblay

Pacific

Dennis Tafoya

Old Habits

Stephen Brophy

It’s for the Best

Marie Anderson

The Damned and Don Williams

Scott Montgomery

Mariticide

Alpheus Williams

Company

Deek Brodie

Contact Tracing

Nick Kolakowski

The Hard Time

Stephen J. Golds

Old Shipmates

Frank Kozusko

Room Service

B.L. Conradis

Basement Dweller

Stanton McCaffery
  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
  • 6
  • …
  • 44
  • »

Subscribe to Shotgun Honey

About Shotgun Honey

Learn More

Established in 2011, Shotgun Honey provides crime fiction lovers a regular diet of flash fiction. Living by the simple tenet of keeping it lean and mean, Shotgun Honey has published over 800 flash fiction stories from more than 400 authors from around the world.

Shotgun Honey branched into publishing with the Shotgun Honey Presents: Booth Barrels anthology in 2012. Now specializing in novellas and short novels, the Shotgun Honey publishing imprint joined Down&Out Books in 2016.

Contact Us

    Shotgun Honey | Fiction with a KICK!
    Copyright © 2021 Shotgun Honey Limited | Site design by Bad Fido Zoo
    We use cookies to ensure that we give you the best experience on our website. If you continue to use this site we will assume that you are happy with it.Ok