Kiss by the Window

Image of Edvard Munch painting 'kiss by the window' used as prompt for microfiction writing challenge
Kiss by the window by Edvard Munch, 1892

The brevity of my services to the household was sealed during the formalities of introductions, the quickening of my heartbeat directing dancing waves of warm light from every extremity to my core, leaving me tingling and within a week, receptive to his touch, warm hands on my cheeks, fingers stroking my earlobes, his breath sweeping hair from the nape of my neck before tracing hieroglyphics of unspoken promises with his tongue. He kept me suspended with his will and my acquiescence, one arm around my shoulder, tilting me back, and the other circling my waist, hand resting on the small of my back to ward off gravity as he breathed life into implausible dreams with a kiss. Clandestine kisses charged two-fold, for the slightest movement could sending me crashing down, and an untimely intrusion held the threat of broad crimson brush strokes, tainting me the scarlet woman, the other woman, the unemployed woman. My memory has imbued our last kiss by the window in the cool and calculating shades of blue of bruises I sustained with the backward fall, as the lady of the house opened and shut the door quickly, throwing the delicate balance of his hold on me.

 

Exactly 200 words for Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge #4. Follow the link to Jane’s site if you’d like to join in.

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Expectations

Image of cupcakes on a tier wth white creme topping used as a prompt for a flash fiction story
Photo by Stephanie McCabe

Proposal, ring, dress, venue, invitations, flowers, hair and makeup, photographer, seating arrangements, navigating family politics- a never-ending to-do list along the well-trodden path espoused by wedding planners, magazines, her girlfriends who’d gone before her, and of course, her mother.

Looking through the tiered treats at the smiling faces, giddy from champagne and sugar, she wondered whether this milestone, her bridal shower, was going to be the one, the last hurdle before she has the guts to call the whole thing off and throw herself off the trajectory she’d been riding on autopilot.

The call was getting harder with growing expectations and mounting debt; sighing, she took another cupcake, after all, there was another fitting to accommodate fluctuations between now and then.

 

Written in response to Sonya’s Three Line Tales, Week 20. It’s a fun challenge- Sonya has a knack for selecting beautiful photos that inspire so many different stories. Half the fun is reading what others come up with – join in if you have time!