Confrontation
100-word Microfiction
Little shit. How dare he?
Before the bowl of stew — hot sludge, really — hits the floor, my dagger is pressed against Bastien’s throat.
His brown eyes widen. How is he surprised? He has seen me in action.
“An accident!” His voice is strained but at least he hasn’t wet himself. Impressive.
“Bullshit.” I press the dagger a bit. His Adam’s apple bobs but before he can reply, a body slams against the table right where I was standing.
I whirl around. The bar brawl is getting out of hand.
Bastien grabs my hand to pull me away. I let him.