creative writing · Flash Fiction

Flash fiction! Lost Angeles

Lost angeles

Wade walked through the filth of the city. It was a tough job but he couldn’t imagine himself doing anything else. Perhaps it was because he knew, deep down inside, he was just like them.

The weak drug addicts, willing to sell their mothers for their next fix. The broken whores, selling their herpes riddled bodies. The pimps that bought and sold the girls like used cars.

Just like them, he was warped inside, damaged beyond repair.

Community support officer they called it. What a joke. This community didn’t need support, it needed to be destroyed, razed to the ground and he knew just the guy to do it.

Written for creative writing ink

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