I’ve written recently about the benefits of the flash fiction exercise; how it flexes writing muscles essential to a concise story. I enjoyed writing them and felt it a waste to leave them tucked away in a file never to see the light of day. So, here’s a photo and a scene inspired by it.
She clung to the shadows, watching, waiting. The big lummox snored loud enough to cover her fumbling entrance. He bore telltale signs, gluttony, sloth; easy prey. She tip toed into the cluttered bedroom, careful of the debris surrounding the man’s bed like a minefield.
She yearned for the sensations possessing this fleshy heap offered. Leaner, prettier vessels fought too much or worse, already hosted an enemy spirit. Books and legends depicted demonic possession as the work of the devil’s pawns warring over the world’s witless souls against the powers of light.
A giggle slipped as she considered her selfish part in an un-sinister plot. A joyride, that’s all she hoped to accomplish tonight; a chance to eat foods, smell odors, and maybe get lucky too.
She picked her way closer. Though no mere corporeal creature, she’d known others to knock things about simply through their sharpness of focus. The anticipated thrill of taking this slovenly creature for a stroll threatened to alert her man and kill the night’s fun.
She slithered across his chest, paralyzing his limbs as she crawled. His breathing stuttered and stopped just as she climbed inside. Fear and flight crossed his dim wits before she wrestled his will into submission.
Hot dank air, thick with body odor assailed her senses and she laughed herself to tears. Pressed for time she raced through the room to get dressed. She caught her reflection in the mirror and flashed a dingy smile. “Hello handsome, let’s go find some fun.”
This image was provided to me by Michel Prince, a fellow Rebel Ink Press author and generally swell lady. Here’s her web site: