With Faithful Jenny deliberately scuttled there was no going back. The rip-tides in the bay were well renowned, and the lack of a body would be easily explainable.
He outstretched his arms and let go of everything – his materialistic trophy wife, the kids who hated him, the stock portfolio, the endless competing with other alphas – all expelled in a single glorious belch of freedom.
Hidden behind a rocky outcrop he encountered two other men – one standing in the mangled wreckage of a hang glider, the other kneeling by a bloated cadaver. He greeted them with nervous exhilaration and gave a false name as he’d been instructed. They reciprocated.
‘The likeness is uncanny,’ he commented, gesturing towards the cadaver.
”I paid extra. It’s a little macabre stealing from a morgue, but it’s not like anyone was murdered!’
A speedboat was moored at the tip of the archipelago. With a fair wind they’d be in Gibraltar by morning where a vagabond utopia awaited…
Written for: Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers