The Unicorn Challenge.
A magical new weekly writing opportunity from her – Jenne Gray – and me.
Visit her blog every Friday to see the photo prompt, and post your amazing story in her comments section.
Or on your own blog, and stick the link down in her comments.
The rules are:
Maximum of 250 words.
Based on photo prompt.
That’s it.
To hear me read my story, just click here:
Bus Stop
I’ve never spoken to her.
And I’m pretty sure I never will.
I see her often, and find her very attractive.
Slender, even svelte, she moves in that utterly graceful, self-contained, self-assured way that only the truly beautiful do.
Oh, and all French ladies, of course.
I think with them it’s genetic, like the ability to carry a laden tray high above the head in one delicate hand.
Anyway, when she appears, I’m always sitting at the bus stop, my shopping bag either at my feet or perched on the low wall beside me.
It contains the usual small esculents – cheese, pâté, garlic – including, of course, the obligatory baguette.
But my comestibles become quite irrelevant as I watch her stroll towards me – well, not towards me, exactly, but in my direction – with that sway of the hips that so fascinates, so intrigues, so enchants.
Usually she passes in front of me, never glancing right or left, and with never the slightest pause in her elegant stride.
Occasionally – today’s the third time – she alters her path, entering the small Place de la Poste at my back.
There she lingers momentarily, depositing her own bag, bearing the same Carrefour logo, on the wall where I sit while she adjusts a shoe, or searches her pockets for something.
Seconds later, her scent drifts away again.
Back home, I count the contents of her bag.
I’d love to know her, but the payoffs are considerable.
So I’ll never speak to the fragrantly desirable courier.
I’ll just add my applause to the bottom of your comment list here, C.E. Brilliantly executed. I was waiting for a romantic ending, but I should have known better. You’re never that predictable. You MC’s a lucky man – great job satisfaction for him, whatever the ‘payoff’ is for.
Thanks, Margaret, but you know it’s fiction when I prefer cash to romance!
I don’t know what you are up to but it sounds a bit dodgy to me!
She sounds far more interesting than the Amazon courier that just left me a package!
Just a wee game of Tinker, Tailor…
Did your Amazon courier deliver my thrilling bestseller, currently selling like cold buns?
Nicely done!
Thanks, Tessa
damn! the persuasive charm of a confident conversationalist!
(Evidenced down through history by populist leaders, successful lovers and cult leaders, evil and benign)
ok, back to the actual story lol
Enjoyed the descriptions, simple and engaging, with some kind of sinuous rhythm going on. This (rhythm) which goes a long way in convincing the Reader they know what the payoff will be and, therefore, let down their guard.*
…all the more fun (for the Reader) at the ending.
*Orson Scott Card (in his book ‘Characters and Viewpoint’) talks quite a bit of the special contract between Reader and Author. We invest our time, the Author offers a return on our investment. In this context, we know you’ll be doing something surprising, so the ‘letting down our guard’ is our relaxing in the belief we know the ending.
I’m delighted to hear that I persuaded you to ‘let down your guard’ once again, Clark.
It’s not easy to mislead folk who know they’re about to be misled, so when it works I just smile contentedly.
Aha, nice one, CE!
(by the way, I’ve seen the Carrefour logo so many times as I’m watching the Tour de France at the moment!)
Great spectacle, isn’t it, sometimes spoilt by all those eejits on bikes!
A flash fiction masterclass – and beautifully read.
Within the frame of the first two and last two sentences you paint a deliciously detailed and living scene.
Yet for all that’s said, you leave the key mystery to tease us…
And what’s revealed of the character of the MC – he appreciates, enjoys sensual beauty – but desires the ‘considerable payoffs’ of the transaction even more.
‘Seconds later, her scent drifts away again.’ – a sentence that says so much more than the words.
I quite like the frame approach sometimes in a short piece, I think it wraps it up quite neatly.
And the fact that the MC prefers gold to gals tells you it’s fiction!
https://rosemarycarlson.com/2024/07/18/hunted/
Hey, Rosemary, wotcha doin’ here?
Get over to the Prompt Page where you belong!
Mutter, mutter…
Lol. Sorry. Done!
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