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Flash Fiction: The Don’s Move

Don Pazta stared at me triumphantly.

“You’ve done it. Don Peeza is dead. Now his territory belongs to us. Well done.”
I smiled at the old man while gingerly sipping on my glass of wine. Don Peeza’s half eaten apple lay on the plate, next to his resting head. Don Pazta giddily got up from his seat and did a small jig.
“Tell me though. How did you know he would pick that apple from the basket?”
I grinned at the old don.
“I didn’t.”

Don Pazta glanced towards the half-eaten apple on his own plate, before keeling over…


Word Count: 99

Prompt:

Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge 8th August 2019

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