The building looked the same, for the most part. The railings, the fire escape, they were rusty, but otherwise…
In the lobby, the only original appointment was the marble floor. He rode up an elevator without an operator to a hall with a new carpet and knocked on a door with a depressingly un-gilded number hanging on it.
She answered the door, looking twenty-two at most, exactly the same. She stared at him, said, “I like your hair short.”
“Had to cut it for the army.”
“Which time?”
“1917.”
A smile spread across her face. “Let’s go get some coffee.”
Cleverly short and skillfully sweet. Well done.
ReplyDeleteThank you :-)
DeleteYou left me wanting more ........
ReplyDeleteThat's the idea. :-)
DeleteAlways immediately drawn in by your writing, David...
ReplyDeleteThat's very sweet of you, thank you :-)
DeleteIntriguing! More to come?
ReplyDeleteProbably not... I don't really write 'serial' flashfiction - as I tend to think it defeats the purpose and definition *of* flashfiction. A possible exception is the 'capes' series of stories featuring superhero Fleet.
DeleteYou can pretty much tell when I have no intention of returning to a piece when I don't bother to name the characters ;-)
I love the little scenelet- enough to get us interested. you have compelling voice, and I want to know more, you've hooked me that quick. ( I see from other comments you won't be returning to it, so I'll let my imagination fill in the rest. with dragons.) I love it!
ReplyDeleteThanks! :-)
DeleteLoved it ... short, sweet and fun to read. Well done.
ReplyDeleteThank you :-)
Delete