Some people smile as I walk by. They’re the kind I hate. They’re boring. I want a disapproving glare, a sour glance, even a gasp. There’s no point in indulging a hint of mischief if no one disapproves. But the ones I like the best are the eyes that follow even as they mouth scandalized nonsense. They burn my skin hotter than the sun. And I smile and let them look and get wet as wet can be.
Short this week, but with a kick. I’m not sure how well I can keep up with Flash Fiction Friday any more, but since PB was back this week, and it’s a picture that I apparently provided a long time ago (I don’t honestly remember it, but that’s okay) I had to play along. Because Flash Fiction Friday rocks.
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