Alas Johnny Hopeless

Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300.

The prompts: This is an open prompt. I can write about anything.

Alas Johnny Hopeless

Ex-detective Johnny Hopeless took a long deep drag on the cool tallboy. With a flip of his wrist, he sent the empty in the general direction of his growing collection of used aluminum. A gentle smile was coaxed out by the onset of a hops-induced euphoria.

God Damn it has been a good run, he thought.

Years of playing near the edge had fed his adrenal addiction with gusto. There was no doubt that it couldn’t go on forever. He had always known that; it was part of the rush. Every day he woke up knowing the danger, certain that it was near.

It kept him sharp.

It kept him alive.

And now that it was over, he knew he was a dead man.

He had played the game well. There was the mob, the guys at the precinct and him. They were such idiots; puppets, whose strings he pulled. Money, adventure, danger and women all flitted in and out of his life on a daily basis.

It had truly been a beautiful thing.

The suddenness of his downfall surprised him. It was as if the other players had joined forces to play him. Within minutes, he had received two emails. One was from the DA telling him of the Grand Jury investigation, reminding him to not leave town. The other was from an unknown source, its sole content, a photo of a black rose; the death flower. The mob message was clear.

His last beer gone, Johnny reached into the satchel next to his chair. He pulled out his service revolver, checking to make sure it was loaded. With a last look at a photo of his long estranged wife, he smiled and thought, a great run indeed . It was time to smoke the 45 caliber pipe.

word count 300