Ginny McGinnty

Time for Al’s fabulous ‘Sunday Photo Fiction’. Using the photo prompt each week write a small piece of fiction around 200 words. Not as easy at it looks but great for getting the creative juices flowing. Get yourselves over and read the others or better still have a go yourself.


“Ginny McGinnty is waiting for me, under the arms of the Cherry Blossom tree”

Mac didn’t know where that old rhyme had come from, or why it suddenly came into his head. He’d just been shot, the last thing he wanted to do was sing. It felt like a chain was strangling his chest and thick beads of sweat were pooling in his eyes. He swiped a hand across his face and swallowed, a metallic taste hit the back of his throat. He rested his head back against the cold stone. He knew he was on the edge.

Mac had lived his whole life on the edge. On the edge of the playground, the edge of the orphanage. He was a bastard by birth long before his personality came to match it. He’d joined the ‘Mayfair’ gang in his teens, back when making money was easy if you didn’t care how. He’d killed five men by the time he was fifteen and lost track of numbers since.

He heard a noise and turned. A woman stood above him. Her long flowing hair, as black as jet, flickering like flames around her back. He reached up for her outstretched hand. Her skin was like fire and for the first time in his life Mac was afraid. “Who are you”?  Her voice a mere whisper, “I’m Ginny McGinnty and I’ve been waiting for you”……

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