Wednesday, August 7, 2013


Though Talanda found little enough to recommend here amongst the savages, she did find merit in the tenet that any problem in life could be resolved by a sufficiently excessive application of gin.

Squinting to help her focus, she leaned down to peruse her latest glassful of solace.  Slamming her chin into the unyielding rail of the bar, as she did so, had the unfortunate side effect of causing her physical manifestation to waver and flow.

Since the fateful encounter in which she’d saved the life, yet again, of that contemptible bastard Janx she’d had…problems with maintaining a sufficiently acceptable visual manifestation. She’d been wounded both physically and psychically by her encounter with the Council Harpies.

What bothered her most of all was whether she wished him destroyed to his very last molecule or, instead, firmly committed to spending every night with her and not off satisfying his unnatural…appetites…elsewhere.

This story was written for the weekly Visual Dare flash fiction prompt: undecided. As a personal challenge, I have been stringing the prompts from week to week into an ongoing story. This marks the 22nd such and previous installments may be found here.

No comments:

Post a Comment