Undercover of the Night
As some of you know, I sometimes play a bit of Flash Fiction over on Anna Spargo Ryan’s blog.
Here is my offering for this week’s prompt:
All of you were watching her as she stood at the bar with her friend, her back bare, save for a whisper of fabric. Her hair was slashed so short you could see the delicate indentation where her spine met her skull. You could imagine cradling that, allowing your fingertips to meet at that fragile secret.
You gulped down some fortitude and elbowed your way free of your pack to breathe into her ear, “Your back looks amazing in that top, your skin is like caramel.” The words sounded wrong even as they left your mouth but you meant it. You wanted to run your hands all over her skin, feel it ripple beneath your fingerprints.
She giggled a little and turned her back to you, half smiling now, a come-on.
You ran your knuckles along the bumps of her spine, tracing the S-shape, flitting so lightly she wasn’t sure if it was a touch or a puff of a breeze. She arched slightly, feline for a beat, and you knew that this night you would make your love. This nighttime would never be over, yet over all at once, such was the fallacy and the trickery of the satin blackness that now cloaked you both in a private world.
The bar-crowd became hazy and their sounds were muted, as only the two of you existed, under your cape. You became invisible, and indivisible in a way that you would never quite do, in the slap of daylight.
…From The Ashers