![]() ![]() He reaches down to claim the coin as his own. “Time’s up, twerp” the pimply teenager says with a sneer. The last quarter rolls to a stop, mere feet away. The massive Yakuza leader spots the kid’s fumble and smiles. It misses the stop latch, drops down hard into the change slot, then bounces up. The coins hang for a split second before finally falling. His skinny fingers fidget as they race to stuff the four quarters into my machine. The child plods back towards me, each lethargic step causing me more pain than the concussion. The bells of angels would make no sweeter sound. The beautiful tinkling echo of four quarters bouncing off each other as they drop down into the change dish. And then, as if by some divine miracle, I hear it. The sirens, the bells, the buzzers, they disappear as I strain to hear one single, joyful noise. The ambient soundtrack of the video arcade melts away to silence. The child uses the palm of his hand to flatten the dollar bill against his pants leg. With an angry whirr, the beast spits the wrinkled bill back out.Ī crumpling sound. I hear the machine hum as it spins the kid’s dollar bill along its rollers. ![]() The only sound comes from a pair of oversized hightop sneakers as they race across the concrete floor, sprinting towards the change machine. The flat boots of the Yakuza make no sound as the goons pace around me. The familiar sound of clinking quarters should come any second. I strain my ears once more, listening for my lifeline. Through my pixelated, pain-streaked field of vision, I spot the timer which counts down the scant seconds I have to live.Ī single cryptic word flashes beneath the numbers: Finally, as I tire from their relentless blows, the thickest of them sneaks up behind me and swings for the fences. Each time I knock down one Yakuza, another regains his footing. Four huge thugs emerge from the tiny lowrider. Over the barbed wire fence, ducking a pair of rabid junkyard dogs.įorward still, rushing onward towards my love, and vengeance.įrom nowhere, a street-scraping tuner skids to the curb! The thick subwoofers within blast out a bass line that shakes the entire block. Rage funnels through them as I pummel wave after wave of Ryoku’s goons, henchmen, thugs, and anyone else foolish enough to stand in my way. My steel jaw clenches as I will the fury down into my tightened fists. Through flat, muted ears, I can almost hear the timer that ticks down the seconds we have left. Who else could it be but Ryoku? Damn him! If only we had left when he first made his threats…but this is no time to dwell on the past. Off and running with no control of my body as I fly on a path towards revenge. I struggle to find my feet as vision returns. Special thanks to Kevin McCloud and the Free Sounds Project for providing music and special effects.įog fades away. This episode we bring you A Little Laughter. You’re listening to Little Wonders, our thematic flash fiction collections.
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