Totally stealing Mur’s idea of writing a flash fic for They Might Be Giants songs. But I’m doing it for Fall Out Boy’s Folie à Deux album. Borrowing the ideas of the songs. All of these fics will fit into the novel series I’m writing called Sarah’s Requiem. Think of the stories as a prequel to the novel. So you’re getting a sneak peek of what’s to come.
Sarah Doyle is a consultant to the Downtown Chicago’s Police District, mostly it’s homicide division. She lives and works with her best friend Iyana Jones, who is a journalist and wanna be Romance novelist. Sarah’s unique quirks make her disliked by all at the police force, except a few close friends.
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“I don’t care what you think. As long as it’s about me. The best of us can find happiness in misery.”
- Fall Out Boy
by Tabitha Grace Smith
Sarah Doyle wasn’t extremely tall. She wasn’t extremely beautiful, or ugly, or fashionable, or unique-looking. There wasn’t really anything that would wow from just looking at her. She had intense blue eyes, blonde hair, and a moderately attractive set of curves. It wasn’t like she was unattractive. But there just wasn’t something that you would say made her extremely remarkable.
What Sarah was, however, was smart. Someone once told her parents to get her tested, but they refused. “Sarah is Sarah,” they explained. “She’ll be as smart or as dumb as she chooses. We won’t let a test determine her future.”
And Sarah was grateful.
“What are you thinking about?” Iyana held the Starbucks cup up to Sarah’s face. “I’ve been standing here for a good five minutes waiting for you to take this.”
Sarah smiled at her friend. “Thinking about the Lieutenant.”
“Him?” Iyana rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t care what he thinks about you.”
“I don’t.” Sarah sipped her drink slowly. The feeling of warmth soothing her throat. “MMmmmm.” She said softly.
“I think Starbucks laces your drinks with crack. You seem happiest when you’re drinking them.” Iyana shook her head. Her red hair stubbornly staying in place as it peaked out of her warm knit hat.
“We can always go to Mexico,” Sarah said stirring her drink.
“What does that have to do with the Lieutenant?”
“He doesn’t like me. We won’t get cases. And Mexico is warm.” Sarah motioned out to the Chicago street. “It’s cold here.”
“The leaves are barely falling Sarah,” Iyana said, “it’s not even cold yet.”
“So we should go to Mexico.” Sarah tapped the lid of her drink.
“There’s no Starbucks in Mexico.”
“Yes there are. There’s even some in Guam.”
“There’s Starbucks in Guam?”
“Yes. Guam loves coffee.”
“You’re referring to an island as if it was a person,” Iyana handed Sarah a napkin. “And you’re splattering coffee on your shirt.”
“Maybe the Lieutenant didn’t like my shirt.” Sarah said as she dabbed at the spots.
“Yes, I’m sure he goes around not giving people work because of their shirts.” Iyana rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t a big fan of you pointing out his affair with lady at the front desk.”
“Ah.” Sarah sipped her coffee again and fell back into thought.
“You really shouldn’t tell potential employers that they’re doing something they’re trying to keep secret.” Iyana said, leaning across the small table. “They’re not fans of that.”
“They’re not fans of the truth then.” Sarah set the cup down and studied it. “I could pretend this table was an elephant. But that doesn’t mean it is.”
“If someone is paying me to pretend the table is an elephant, I will.” Iyana broke off a piece of her bagel and pointed it at Sarah. “In this economy you need to do the same. You’re a one trick pony Sarah. You’re good at solving crimes. Not to great at anything else.”
“I was a great farmer.”
“That was a school field trip Sarah. That doesn’t count.” Iyana spread some cream cheese on her bagel and chewed it thoughtfully. “Maybe if we send the Lieutenant some nice cognac.”
“You’re gonna bribe him?” Sarah wrinkled her nose.
“No, apologize for you being such an observant person.” Iyana broke off another piece of her bagel and looked at Sarah. “Come on, this is your dream job. We need to make an effort.”
“I was.” Sarah tapped on the table. “I did.”
“But you offended him.”
“He’ll call.”
“Sarah, he’s not going to call.”
“He will.”
Iyana shrugged and spread more creame cheese. “I swear you’d rather be miserable and right, then happy and say you were wrong.”
“I don’t care what he thinks about me, Iyana. He just has to know that I can get the job done.”
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Sarah’s Requiem Flash Fiction by Tabitha Grace Smith is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at www.fantabzulous.com.
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