Frisky Friday Flash Fiction

frisky-friday

Happy Friday! It’s time for another installment in Frisky Friday Flash Fiction. You know the drill. I provide a picture and the first lines of a 300 word story. I’ll post the remainder next week.

Let’s look back at the previous story:

He Comes for Me

 

 

“A Meeting of Beasts”

He’s found me.

I’m not quite sure what he expects from me, but I do know what waits for him. It won’t be pleasant… well, not for him.

The sun is setting and my beast scratches just under my skin. Waiting. Always waiting. It’s something I inherited, not something I appreciate. But I also don’t appreciate the call of death.

“Miss? Are you hurt?” He stops beside me as I sit upon the ground.

I glance up. Damn. He is a handsome human. I wonder what he’ll taste like. “No. Not hurt. Just tired.”

“Long day?”

“Not long enough.” I size him up—muscular chest, well-shaped ass, nice legs, pleasant smile.

“Mind if I join you?”

“If you like.”

His eyes are mysterious. If I turn my head to one side, they look green. If I turn the other way, they shift to a bluish color.

“Can’t say I’ve ever seen you in these woods?” He says as he sits underneath the tree. “My name’s Hunter.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. And you are?”

“Nieve.”

He laughs. It’s like music to my ears. “Now, who’s serious? Do you realize your name is snow in Spanish?”

“I do.” I pull my cloak around me as a cool breeze blows by. “I don’t normally frequent this part of the forest.”

His eyebrow quirks up. “Same here. I was just strolling through.”

“On the prowl?” I hint. This situation is preposterous. He should just say it.

“As a matter of fact I am, but I think I found exactly what I’m looking for.” He stands and offers me his hand.

I glance up before standing. “What is it you plan on doing now that your search is over?”

“Depends on what you’re in the mood for.”

“Oh?”

Slowly, his shape transforms into that of a wolf.


And now, for this week’s story:

Reality

“You know what we have can’t last,” she says, the smile sliding from her lovely face.

“And why the fuck not?” I tell her. “You’re it for me, babe. Ain’t no changing that.”

“What about Enrique?” The man too stupid, too arrogant to sign the fucking divorce papers.

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