Black Water

Code Red

NYC Midnight 2020 MicroFiction

Competition, Round II

NYCMidnight is a series of creative writing challenges where participants are challenged to create short stories within certain prompts and time constraints.

The MicrofictionCompetition requires participants to create a story in under 200 words within 72 hours. All stories must be written within an assigned genre, with an assigned word (or any variation/tense of the word), and incorporating an assigned action. Each submission is judged against its own group. 

This Short Story was submitted to Round II; free to leave comments below!

Read my qualifying Round I submission here! 

ASSIGNED GENRE: Comedy

ASSIGNED WORD: Report

ASSIGNED ACTION: Training a Puppy

Code Red

Amy Marie Hypnarowski

Justin was royally screwed.

 

But to be fair, it wasn’t his fault. 

 

Not really.

 

Technically, the blame fell on Sebastian Pamplemousse, Duke of Spottingham - or Bash, as the firefighters of Station 89 called their Dalmatian puppy.

 

Justin, the rookie, had inherited the responsibility of training the dog. “Teaches you both discipline,” Captain Ramirez had told him, sipping his coffee as Justin tried to wrest a boot from the gleeful pup. 

 

Justin remembered spending hours teaching Bash everything from “sit” to “load up” on their engine. Soon, the puppy was a model canine citizen. There was just one problem - Bash was a kleptomaniac. 

 

The Dalmatian had stolen three shoes, five socks, a magazine on succulents, an actual succulent, and a spatula...within the last week. The crew had taken it in good humor, but this time, Justin was sure he’d be reported. He looked down at the dog, whose tail wagged happily as he dropped his prize on Justin’s bunk.

 

“I, uh,” said a voice, “think that belongs to me”. 

 

Mandy, the station’s only female firefighter, stood with a towel wrapped around her, clearly fresh out of the shower. A bright smile illuminated her face.

 

Justin’s ears burned as he dropped the red lace bra into Mandy’s outstretched hand. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Mandy cut him off, a twinkle in her eye.

 

“I’ll tell you what,” she said, bending down to scratch Bash’s ears, “you can make it up to me by buying me a drink tonight.”