Elle at my writing group gives us 100 word flashfic prompts. This week’s was light. I wrote others, but here is one. I was playing with dialogue, because it is my most hated part of storytelling. I try to get the cadences sounding realistic, but sometimes they sound contrived.
The light faded from his eyes, his smiled died.
“What do you mean, dead?”
“Dead means dead, man! Look it up in a dictionary!”
His shoulders slumped as he remembered Maxxie’s zest for life.
“But, but, she can’t be! When did this happen?”
“About five years. She died of a heart attack or something”
His brows rose in surprise.
“But I just saw her last week!”
“Blonde, in her fifties?”
“That is her.”
“Couldn’t have been her. I was at her bloody funeral. Maxxie Granger? Do you have the right woman?”
He squeezes his eyes shut.
“Yes… Yes, I do.”