Scott, the young vet that had begun tending bar at the No Thanks was a keen piano player. He enjoyed making up jazz tunes, so his was a totally different sound than the house band. One afternoon, he played the same main theme repeatedly, adding a few more bars of music each time. The whomping of the lower notes drew Mac in, so when Scott finally stopped, Mac asked, “What are you going to name that piece?”
Scott looked startled, like he had forgotten he wasn’t alone. “Extraction.”
Mac nodded. “You have the sound of the helicopters down pat.”
Written in response to Charli Mills May 2, 2022, prompt at Carrot Ranch Literary: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about extraction. What is being extracted and from where? Is it an idea? How does genre change the perspective (sci-fi versus romance)? Go where the prompt leads!