Flash Fiction Month 2019, Day 8
It was a slow afternoon at the Hawk and Pigeon. Maybe it was because it was 3pm on a Tuesday. Maybe it was because Hammers for Orphans was encouraging people to raise money by giving up alcohol for “Ju-dry.” Or maybe—just maybe, Jules considered—it was because his establishment was suspended five hundred feet in the air by a hot air balloon. The bar’s current clientele was comprised of two harpies, a gryphon, and a kangaroo with a jetpack. And then, as always, there was Philip the Fly.
“Another one of these, please,” Philip slurred.
“Another whole pitcher of margarita?” Jules raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Alright, just a pint of Ruddles Best, then.”
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”
“What?” Philip regarded Jules with his huge compound eyes. “I’m just nicely buzzed!”
“Badum-tsh,” said the gryphon, not looking up from her all-day breakfast. Continue reading