Sarah's Requiem/Fall Out Boy Flash Fic: Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet
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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Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On a Bad Bet
"Does your husband know the way that the sunshine gleams from your wedding band?" - Fall Out Boy
by Tabitha Grace Smith
There's probably nothing that could prepare you for there being no more. Get hungry, smell the wafting scent of your favorite meal and you automatically can taste it on your tongue. You can feel the sensation of the food in your mouth. Your body seems set to prepare you for taking that first bite. Then, you walk into the kitchen, only to find out that the meal is gone.
Dying, I imagine, can kind of be like that. You always think you have one more minute, years to go, something big just on the horizon. Then, you're gone. From the beginning of time it's been all about the end.
Of course, you can be philosophical when you're dead. Well, I'm not really dead. I'm more of an imaginary figment in Sarah Doyle's twisted imagination. But I digress.
I am dead.
"From the condition of the body it's not been long." Freddy presses his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looks up at Detective Ortiz. "You're looking at a time frame of six hours, maximum."
Ortiz snaps her gum and gives Freddy a bit of a glare as she jots something in her notebook. "Why can't you be all fancy like those CSI boys on TV?"
Freddy stands pulling off his latex gloves. "That's TV Ortiz. I'll be happy to elucidate what 'fiction' means at a later date."
"Eluca-- who?" Ortiz looks Freddy up and down. "You talking dirty to me?"
"Of course not," Freddy blushes almost instantly and drops his gaze.
"He means explain." Sarah wanders behind the pair as she gazes at the ceiling. Without skipping a beat she further explains, "and he enjoys talking dirty."
"Sarah!" Iyana hisses. She's got an arm snaked in Sarah's as the two walk. She's been doing that for awhile now. Almost everyone in the homicide department is convinced Sarah's lost a mental hinge and now Iyana has become wet nurse.
"What?" Sarah says. Then she sips on the coffee she's carrying and fiddles with the lid. "He does."
"And you know this through personal experience?" Iyana rolls her eyes. "Most of the time you don't even notice Freddy is around."
"Freddy is the medical examiner. Of course I notice he's around."
"Freddy's also still in the room," Freddy says with a slight squeak in his voice. "And I have a body I need to get to the morgue."
"You think I notice Freddy don't you?" Sarah asks me. I kind of shrug. I'm a guy after all, and dead, and a dead figment of her imagination. I don't know much beyond what she knows.
"I just said I didn't," Iyana says dragging Sarah into the next room.
"I know Iyana, I'm not stupid. I was asking Peter."
"The dead guy?" Iyana sighs and rubs her forehead. "Sarah, this is not the Sixth Sense, you don't see dead people."
"I do."
"You don't."
"I don't." Sarah takes another sip.
"You agree with me?" Iyana says hopefully.
"No, but I am done arguing. These curtains are very interesting."
"Sarah, you're not on Next Top Designer, who cares about the curtains." Iyana says.
"Not Peter. Did you Peter?" Sarah rubs her chin softly. "He did care about appearance."
"The man lives in the hottest apartment building on the Gold Coast," Iyana spins slowly as if emphasizing the size of the bedroom they were standing in. "This is kind of an appearance statement all of it's own."
"But, the curtains don't match the interor design. This is the exact same bedroom design from last month's 'Interior Design' Magazine."
"I'm trying to decide if I should question you still talking to Peter or the fact that you read Interor Design Magazine."
"Everything is the same but the curtains. The seems are crooked."
"He had handmaid curtains?" Iyana blinks.
"Exactly." Sarah moves around on her heel. "And two toothbrushes."
"He was seeing someone."
"A married someone." Sarah taps her lips.
"Why a married someone?" Iyana raises her eyebrows. "You're guessing!"
"Am not."
"Are too. You're a dirty guesser!" Iyana claps her hands together. "After all the times you've lectured me, you're guessing! Where's my calendar, I want to write this down."
Sarah tosses Iyana a dirty look. "Come on Ms. Harlequin Romance, you can see it too if you look."
Iyana bites back a grin and looks around the room. "All I see is a bunch of photos."
Sarah nods. "And...?"
"And.... the guy has a lot of friends?"
"Do you see any of the photos with someone who could be his girlfriend?" Sarah motions helpfully.
"Maybe it's a new relationship and he hasn't had them framed?"
The man let her hang hand-made curtains in his bedroom." Sarah rocks back on her heels. "That doesn't happen in a new relationship."
"Why do people do that?" Iyana looks around the room again. "He was a really good-looking guy. Why sleep with someone else's wife?"
"Maybe he wanted to be the footnote in someone else's happiness." Sarah says. "Maybe he thought he didn't want to be alone."
Iyana puts a hand on Sarah's shoulder and Sarah smiles. "Wonder if she took her wedding ring off.... or left it on..."
"Now that's out of place, Sarah." Iyana shakes her head.
"I'm in place. I'm in place and not in outer space." Sarah smiles.
"That remains to be seen," Detective Ortiz says as she walks in. "And you're right, according to the neighbors, Peter Retz was seeing a married woman. No name, but we're pretty sure we've got her on the security cams."
"See Iyana, I didn't guess," Sarah grins and rocks up on her toes, "Not at all."
Iyana throws Sarah a glance as she picks up her notepad. "You may have won the battle Sarah, but I will one day win the war."
Sarah sips her coffee and brings it down in front of her. "That doesn't even make sense."
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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.
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.
------------------------
Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On a Bad Bet
"Does your husband know the way that the sunshine gleams from your wedding band?" - Fall Out Boy
by Tabitha Grace Smith
There's probably nothing that could prepare you for there being no more. Get hungry, smell the wafting scent of your favorite meal and you automatically can taste it on your tongue. You can feel the sensation of the food in your mouth. Your body seems set to prepare you for taking that first bite. Then, you walk into the kitchen, only to find out that the meal is gone.
Dying, I imagine, can kind of be like that. You always think you have one more minute, years to go, something big just on the horizon. Then, you're gone. From the beginning of time it's been all about the end.
Of course, you can be philosophical when you're dead. Well, I'm not really dead. I'm more of an imaginary figment in Sarah Doyle's twisted imagination. But I digress.
I am dead.
"From the condition of the body it's not been long." Freddy presses his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looks up at Detective Ortiz. "You're looking at a time frame of six hours, maximum."
Ortiz snaps her gum and gives Freddy a bit of a glare as she jots something in her notebook. "Why can't you be all fancy like those CSI boys on TV?"
Freddy stands pulling off his latex gloves. "That's TV Ortiz. I'll be happy to elucidate what 'fiction' means at a later date."
"Eluca-- who?" Ortiz looks Freddy up and down. "You talking dirty to me?"
"Of course not," Freddy blushes almost instantly and drops his gaze.
"He means explain." Sarah wanders behind the pair as she gazes at the ceiling. Without skipping a beat she further explains, "and he enjoys talking dirty."
"Sarah!" Iyana hisses. She's got an arm snaked in Sarah's as the two walk. She's been doing that for awhile now. Almost everyone in the homicide department is convinced Sarah's lost a mental hinge and now Iyana has become wet nurse.
"What?" Sarah says. Then she sips on the coffee she's carrying and fiddles with the lid. "He does."
"And you know this through personal experience?" Iyana rolls her eyes. "Most of the time you don't even notice Freddy is around."
"Freddy is the medical examiner. Of course I notice he's around."
"Freddy's also still in the room," Freddy says with a slight squeak in his voice. "And I have a body I need to get to the morgue."
"You think I notice Freddy don't you?" Sarah asks me. I kind of shrug. I'm a guy after all, and dead, and a dead figment of her imagination. I don't know much beyond what she knows.
"I just said I didn't," Iyana says dragging Sarah into the next room.
"I know Iyana, I'm not stupid. I was asking Peter."
"The dead guy?" Iyana sighs and rubs her forehead. "Sarah, this is not the Sixth Sense, you don't see dead people."
"I do."
"You don't."
"I don't." Sarah takes another sip.
"You agree with me?" Iyana says hopefully.
"No, but I am done arguing. These curtains are very interesting."
"Sarah, you're not on Next Top Designer, who cares about the curtains." Iyana says.
"Not Peter. Did you Peter?" Sarah rubs her chin softly. "He did care about appearance."
"The man lives in the hottest apartment building on the Gold Coast," Iyana spins slowly as if emphasizing the size of the bedroom they were standing in. "This is kind of an appearance statement all of it's own."
"But, the curtains don't match the interor design. This is the exact same bedroom design from last month's 'Interior Design' Magazine."
"I'm trying to decide if I should question you still talking to Peter or the fact that you read Interor Design Magazine."
"Everything is the same but the curtains. The seems are crooked."
"He had handmaid curtains?" Iyana blinks.
"Exactly." Sarah moves around on her heel. "And two toothbrushes."
"He was seeing someone."
"A married someone." Sarah taps her lips.
"Why a married someone?" Iyana raises her eyebrows. "You're guessing!"
"Am not."
"Are too. You're a dirty guesser!" Iyana claps her hands together. "After all the times you've lectured me, you're guessing! Where's my calendar, I want to write this down."
Sarah tosses Iyana a dirty look. "Come on Ms. Harlequin Romance, you can see it too if you look."
Iyana bites back a grin and looks around the room. "All I see is a bunch of photos."
Sarah nods. "And...?"
"And.... the guy has a lot of friends?"
"Do you see any of the photos with someone who could be his girlfriend?" Sarah motions helpfully.
"Maybe it's a new relationship and he hasn't had them framed?"
The man let her hang hand-made curtains in his bedroom." Sarah rocks back on her heels. "That doesn't happen in a new relationship."
"Why do people do that?" Iyana looks around the room again. "He was a really good-looking guy. Why sleep with someone else's wife?"
"Maybe he wanted to be the footnote in someone else's happiness." Sarah says. "Maybe he thought he didn't want to be alone."
Iyana puts a hand on Sarah's shoulder and Sarah smiles. "Wonder if she took her wedding ring off.... or left it on..."
"Now that's out of place, Sarah." Iyana shakes her head.
"I'm in place. I'm in place and not in outer space." Sarah smiles.
"That remains to be seen," Detective Ortiz says as she walks in. "And you're right, according to the neighbors, Peter Retz was seeing a married woman. No name, but we're pretty sure we've got her on the security cams."
"See Iyana, I didn't guess," Sarah grins and rocks up on her toes, "Not at all."
Iyana throws Sarah a glance as she picks up her notepad. "You may have won the battle Sarah, but I will one day win the war."
Sarah sips her coffee and brings it down in front of her. "That doesn't even make sense."
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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.