Fiction
The Last Fryby Charles Onyon
“We got any fries left?”
“Don’t know, check the bottom of the bag.” Jake rips the wheel to the right, rubber screaming as the lifted Cadillac careens around a corner.
“Found one. Some days you look in the bottom of the bag, you got a boon, a bounty of hidden fries. One of life’s few satisfactions. Today I got one. How’s that for an omen?”
Jake grunts, still fluttering between the road ahead and the convoy of police in the rear view.
Darryl splits the one fry in half and waves it under his partner’s nose. “Even stakes, want your cut?”
Jake grunts again, cutting the wheel left, more screaming rubber and smoke.
“Oh well, more for me I suppose.” Darryl opens his Cheshire grin up wide and deposits the final fry. Chewing slowly, savoring the greasy te
