Romance Weekly: Flash Fiction


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Welcome to this week’s Romance Weekly! If you’re here, I hope you came from Susan Scott Shelley’s blog. This is my first attempt at flash fiction. In fact, I had to look up what it actually is. I mean, given the terms “flash” and “fiction,” I could guess, but I wanted to make sure I was doing this right. I actually considered skipping this week, but decided to deviate from my comfort zone. The challenge is to write flash fiction (100-150 words) using the following words: chocolate, scarf and candle.

Sweet mother of God, what have I gotten myself into?

***

Penny’s from Heaven

I painted my lips cherry red, and styled my blonde curls around my favorite scarf. Smoothing my dress over my hips, I slipped on shiny black sling backs over my black silk stockings. I lit the candle on the nearby table, spiked the champagne with a tranquilizer, and turned down the lights. I always looked best in the soft glow of candlelight, and he’d only get the best from me, at least for a little while. This would be the best night of his life.

That is, until it suddenly wasn’t.

I’d been told this particular mark had a thing for Grace Kelly, and tonight, that was the character I would play.

No one knew the real me. I doubted anyone ever would. When I arrived at an event, I was, for one night, exactly who and what my client wanted me to be. I’d been everyone: I’d been the babysitter, the long-lost love, the teenage crush. I’d been a confidant, a lover, a mother and a friend. Half the time, my marks didn’t even notice they’d been robbed. I suspected some of them didn’t even care, once they’d spent time with me.

No one knew Penny, the name on my original birth certificate. I’d played so many characters that I sometimes wondered if I really even knew who Penny was. “Penny” was an intangible, a thing so distant and remote I wasn’t sure I believed in her existence.

A knock sounded at the door. I popped a chocolate in my mouth and allowed it to melt on my tongue, so when he kissed me, the taste would linger in his mouth. I wanted to be perfect.

I’d planned everything down to the last detail. I wouldn’t even need the stiletto strapped to my thigh; this night would be perfect.

Little did I know, perfection didn’t matter. Lady Luck–another intangible I wasn’t sure I believed in–had stopped believing in me, too.

Because this was the night I died.

***

Hmph. I went way over, so I guess my experiment with flash fiction was not as flash as I hoped. Ah, well. Why not travel on over to Katherine Givens’ blog and see what did with those same three words!

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