Nine minus nine below zero (Kelvin), A flash fiction story

29 Jun

Nine minus nine below zero (Kelvin), A flash fiction story by Raymond Daley

They call me Snowman.
Actually they only call me that to my face or within earshot.
I happen to know they call me Frosty The Snowman out of visual range.
Never to my face. They respect me to my face.

The groundcrew are ready for another send-off.
I see Edge grinning from ear to ear, no doubt he got the case of Pink Polar Bear ingredients I sent out.

He does a good job for a nutjob, that’s why they call him Edge.
It’s short for “The Edge Of Insanity”.

He was on the front at Casa Verde, it got so bad there all he had left was a corkscrew.
He’d even run out of Jack, it got THAT bad.

He took a long walk that day. The thousand yards, they stare right back at him.
But him being the type of guy he is he just walked right up to the edge of all that insanity going on, looked over and hocked a loogie onto the heads of the people underneath.

“Fuck it now or fuck it later, either way it’s getting fucked so just fuck it, right?” I can still remember him saying that to me the day we first met.

“Hey Edge, how’s it looking out there? We good to go?”
I call him on the one to one, he’s got his ears on too.
He gives me a thumbs up, not even bothering to turn around.

He gives me the send-off hand signal and shoots off a nice crisp salute like he always does, that’s just his style. A gentlemanly crazy guy.

“Gonna be a cold one today sir, wrap up warm!” he razzes me because he knows he’s one of the few who can get away with it.
Without him I don’t fly, if I don’t fly I die.

It was a bad day on Neptune, supposedly just a cut & run but it turned into a clusterfuck of epic proportions.
Their groundtroops singed my wings good and proper and I went down the hard way. You’d think on such a cold planet they’d all freeze to death but those annoying little microbes adept, improvise and overcome.

And get everywhere. Through my suitseals for starters. And I froze. Not one ounce of unfrozen water left in me.
But thanks to those little microbes I lived on and still do.
And that’s how I got my handle.

I’m airborne, spaceborne and bombing the shit out of idiots who deserve it then on my way home before the sun sets.
Look out boys, Ol’ Blue Eyes is back.
Stay Frosty.



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