She’s sharp, fearless, and quick with a comeback. But when her grandmother’s neighborhood is under siege, this PI’s case becomes personal.
Grab-Hold First Line:
They said the gang owned the block; I said they hadn’t met me yet.
Flash Fiction Prompt (190 words):
The streetlamps flickered like nervous witnesses as I stepped out of my beat-up Chevy. The neighborhood smelled like fear, and not the kind that passes when the sun rises. My grandmother’s block had turned into a marketplace for powdered poison, and the gang running it thought no one would dare stand up. They didn’t know me. I wasn’t hired; I was drafted by blood. The neighbors whispered “stay away,” but whispers never stopped bullets, and bullets never scared me. I cracked jokes to keep sane, but I carried the truth like brass knuckles. This wasn’t about money or glory—it was about home. Every night those thugs strutted under the neon lights, I saw the shadows of children who deserved better. A PI’s code is simple: follow the case. But when family’s on the line, the code turns into a vow. Tonight, they’d learn one thing about me: I may be the dame who cracks wise, but I hit harder than their worst nightmare.
3 Questions to Spark Flash Fiction:
- How does her sharp humor shield her from the darkness she faces?
- What unexpected ally—or betrayal—awaits her in the neighborhood?
- Does she bring the gang down with fists, brains, or something more surprising?
Discover more from Optimistic Beacon
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
