|Nothing says a million bucks like a great big shiny car|
The way I approach flash fiction is to come up with a random response to the prompt - pretty much the first thing that pops into my head. Then I write. Free write. Tampering with the words a little as I go along.
The prompt this week was:
One in a Million
He lay spread-eagled on the bonnet of the Ferrari, his cheek pressed hard against the windscreen. It felt martini cold, smooth as silk beneath his skin. Gorgeous, delicious. With a voluptuous sigh, Gerry slid to his feet and stood up to stare as his new purchase. In the harsh strip lighting she glowed like fire, a provocation in scarlet. With careful veneration he placed both palms on the sleek bonnet and inhaled slowly, breathing the rich scent of petrol and money.
"You look great, and yeah, you’re worth a million bucks. Damn it, you’re worth every penny."
He didn’t hear the door creak until the voice caught him like a whiplash. “I didn’t believe it.” It was a thread in the still air, barely audible. “They told me, but I didn’t believe it. Oh God. It’s true. How could you?”
Taking a deep breath he turned. “Mel, I can explain.”
She looked so thin, outlined against the light. Painfully so. Bryony was clutched against her shoulder, sleeping. With a stab of guilt, he saw that her playsuit was grey from washing, worn at the knees.
“You said that you’d never gamble again. Never.”
He stepped towards her, holding out his arms. “Mel, it was a sure thing. A million bucks! We can start over.”
She looked past him at the gleaming red beauty. Her mouth wrinkled, like she was trying to hold in the words. “You can start over, Gerry. But not with us.”
This week's judge is the fabulous LupusAnthropos half man, half wolf and a wonderful writer.