“You’ve got spunk, kid, I’ll grant you that,” said the grizzled old man, watching the boy jump onto the boxcar just as it gathered speed.
The boy, thirteen and covered with grime, said nothing, content to stare at the old man while moonlight peeked inside the small opening of the car.
“I get it – you’re the strong, silent type, huh?” The man ran his hand through thinning hair, and the boy studied its palsied journey, evidence of too many years of cheap booze.
“I can fix that for you,” said the boy, finally, moonlight glinting off a pair of sharp, pearl-colored incisors.
© 2015 All Rights Reserved Kate Loveton, Odyssey of a Novice Writer
Note: Story written in response to “Lillie McFerrin Writes – Five Sentence Fiction Challenge” (here). The challenge was to write a story in five sentences using the word “spunk.”