Two times the amber eye of Maker’s Mark, the end of night and only minutes before I chase you away, these sound effects conjured as I contemplate the payoff and another shot, as you pause to catch your breath and wipe the sweat from your neck, as your gaze admires
and you comment sweetly on the heady restraint of my perfume, a condition for our meetings that grow too frequent
though it all comes easier as 90 proof performs its duty, throaty as you seem to like it (each and every one of you)
my rain to reassure you of your prowess through this grainy shower, this dimming light, the proximate glass that is (after all) only mist and breathing; Oh, dear man, my hefty grayed would-be cavalier, your satiny head trying so hard to court me, your talisman buried beneath walls of walrus flesh that you jiggle home to your good woman each night, always on time, always your appetite at the well-laid table, never enough to fill you up, your fat fingers that I kiss with genuine affection fumbling for your bristling and lean imagination; lips rolling to lips like red velvet, your campaign for pleasure, your eagerness to express it all and
playing my part as guaranteed by contract, tussling to readjust for the Friday night flourish, forgive me Lover, but I must glance away wishing for a fourth shot, parting everything you require for the finale, granting my most exquisite sigh, oh brave knight, oh bold hero, oh fine lion heart, somewhere, a treasure,
once, a hot country.
Flash fiction is a very short story of anywhere from 100 to 1,000 words. This is a quick writing exercise. Make of it what you will, but do enjoy…