Microfiction challenge #7: Wheatfield


It had been a long ride and my body was giving me the indicators that I needed to stop. I pulled into a roadside rest place where already a crowd of cars and bikes indicated it was a favoured place to rest up and eat.

As usual I was focused on the men’s room and seeing the sign I headed that way bumping into a guy coming out. I muttered my apologies and kept going. When I came out he was standing there and made comment that I should be looking where I am going.

I made another apology and walked across to the cafe area to order myself some lunch.

I was quite hungry and the sandwich I ordered was its appetising best.

Suddenly there was a huge crash. A bike chain landed on my table narrowly missing my drink. I looked up to see the same guy, now a decided boofhead in my opinion standing there flanked by two guys of about the same size and intelligence.

The boofhead with the chain began making comments that I had insulted him and that I should apologise. I replied that I had already done that and that I was now eating my lunch. Seconds later the sandwich was on the floor and I was again looking into his face. A young waitress come over to help clean up but he back handed her and sent her flying across the room crashing into tables and landing on her back. He swung his chain again and this time it landed on the table beside me sending the ordered big breakfast splattering over its owner.

I could see things getting ugly, as these guys were very intimidating. It was time to leave, and hopefully take them outside with me. I jumped up startling the second boofhead who stepped back allowing me to pass and I quickly exited the café.

Behind me I could hear bike chain boofhead calling after me threatening me with all sorts of violence to my person. The best and safest course of action was to head across the road and lead them into the wheat field.

Of course they followed, as I am sure they saw me as an easy target. I’m not very tall and in a strong wind I could be so easily blown over.

In the middle of the field I sat down and listened to them making their way after me. All the while shouting threats of mayhem and destruction. I decided that I would take out the second and third boofhead, but bike chain boy I would not.

Bike chain boofhead must have wondered what was happening when his two mates suddenly vanished. I could hear him thrashing about with the bike chain and I waited until he was almost upon me before I knee capped him.

The wheat field was silent save for the whimpering of bike chain boy. I stood up and walked over to him. He was crying in pain, still holding the chain until I stood on his wrist and threw it far from him.

I asked him if it was worth it that now he’d never get to ride his bike again and most likely struggle to walk.

He had this look of disbelief on his face that what had happened to him was beyond his immediate comprehension. As I walked away I said I’d get him help, to wait patiently until then. Maybe think up a for sale ad for his now useless bike.

Back in the café it was business as usual, the ruckus I had been part of was over, life went on. The young waitress was a bit the worse for wear but bravely going about her job. I reordered my sandwich and paid for it giving the young waitress a very generous tip.

I drove away just as the ambulance was pulling up, the young waitress following my instructions in pointing out the whereabouts of bike chain boofhead.



Written for: https://janedougherty.wordpress.com/2016/07/29/microfiction-challenge-7-wheatfield/

This entry was posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

22 Responses to Microfiction challenge #7: Wheatfield

  1. mandibelle16 says:

    Exciting story Michael. Part of me feels the dumb guy with the chain was so stupid, I feel sorry for him, having trouble with that knee forever. But on the other hand, I’m pretty sure he did what he did threatening and more, to other people and now, he’s hopefully, learned his lesson.

  2. When I see knee-capping I think of the Provo speciality. Is this the kind of thing that happens in American cafés often? If it had happened here the police would have been round in minutes! Scary story, Michael. I like to think the guy defended himself by using magic. That’s how I read it anyway.

  3. Pingback: Microfiction challenge Wheatfield: the entries – Jane Dougherty Writes

  4. merrildsmith says:

    I’m glad he had the magic to teach the bullies a lesson.

  5. Pingback: Microfiction challenge #8: The avenue | Morpethroad

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