A loud explosion rocked the Gotham’s town hall, it was a time of great upheal. The skimpy dressed, high heeled ladies found themselves kicking the heels and running helter skelter within moments. Married men forgot their wives, Sirs forgot their mistresses, ladies forgot their friends, only mothers remembered for a moment to find their kids whereabout.
It all started with the ice-duck like statue. One minute, men were sipping wine and gazing at the intricate and beautifully finished gallant design of an ice duck, the next, a rumble originating from the ice-duck’s pit and crumbling of blocks sent them running.
For months after the explosion, the town hall was rarely visited by sane individuals and the question of “who dunnit” died down like the explosion.
Oldman Grimes couldn’t help but roar out in a manner fit to wake the dead whenever he thought of the ice-duck job. “Ahh, it was so easy”, he boasted wiping a tear from his eyes. Of all the tricks he’s played on an ex, that was his favorite.
Word count: 173 This post is in response to the Flash fiction for Aspiring writers photo prompt challenge. I apologize for the late response and my absence from the blogosphere. Travelled to a place with very poor network, will be leaving by Friday. I can’t wait to read all if your wonderful posts when I get back. 🙂