Sunday, February 20, 2011

Flash Fiction

 I love flash fiction contests, and recently entered one on the Torquere Press Social Group. The prompts were: chickadee, sausage, and flame, and the story couldn't exceed 200 words. At exactly 200 words, here's what I came up with:


"Weeeeelllll, if it isn't my little chickadee!" Red-rouged lips blew a kiss into the mirror. "And what have I done to earn the attention of Sin City's finest?"

I stared at the reflection of a man applying makeup, wearing a long wig in a color not found in nature. Glittery false eyelashes fluttered in my direction as the man swiveled his chair to face me. "Is that a sausage in your pocket, or are you glad to see me!" Could Ted be any campier? His flame burned brightly and he didn't care who knew.

I glanced around the dressing room, noticing curious gazes trained on us. "Could we get some privacy here?" I asked in my best cop voice, flashing my badge.

One performer after the other shot out the door, to hissed questions of "What did Teddy do?"

Once we were alone, I turned to the strip's most notorious drag queen. "You have the right to remain silent…"

My prepared speech was cut off by, "But of course, darling, for how else will I kiss you?"

I grinned, lips crushed to my lover's. "I brought my cuffs this time," I managed to say before his tongue invaded my mouth.

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