My sister author and flash fiction host Ever Addams holds a flash fiction challenge every Tuesday called #EVERyTuesdayWordplay and she puts up a single word prompt to get people writing. You have 300-500 words to create a story based on the one word prompt.
This week’s prompt: APPLE
Here’s the story my muse spit out. It’s part of an upcoming tale THE CONCRETE ANGEL in the Concrete Angels MC series, and it’s a holiday romance. Flint is the narrator for this piece.
We got down to the bottom of the hills and I stopped at the light. I turned and tapped her on the shoulder so she’d look up.
“What?” She raised her eyebrows aware that I’d turned for some reason.
I blinked. Then raised my hand. “Where going?” Signing with just one hand made the question truncated.
“Oh, uh, my shop’s on the corner of north Taft Hill road and Laporte Ave. That way.” She pointed to the right.
I nodded and turned the bike to head down the snowy street. It wasn’t far from where we were, which was both bad and good. Good because she needed to get warm. Bad because soon she’d be off my bike and away from my body. And that made want to turn around and haul ass the other way.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I’d known this woman all of thirty minutes, and I was already thinking kidnapping? I mentally shook my head and headed for her shop. We stopped in front of a stand-alone brick building with a Tudor style wood addition to the second floor. It had a sharp A-shaped gable over the door and a weathered wooden plank sign that read The Herb Cabinette.
Cute, a play on herb cabinet. I parked the bike on the curb in front of the shop and paused, reluctant to let her go, but knowing she couldn’t stay outside.
She cleared her throat and swung her leg off the bike to stand on the sidewalk. “Thanks so much for the rescue and the ride. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” I dipped my head along with my hand. “Have a good night and be safe.”
She nodded and took a few steps toward the alley between her shop and the next building. But she stopped and turned, biting her bottom lip.
Hey, that should be my job.
I blinked. Where the hell had that thought come from? I didn’t even know this woman’s name or her pseudonym. It wasn’t like she was a prostitute used to meaningless sex meant to scratch an itch.
“Um, would you like to come up for a cup of tea?”
I didn’t know who was more surprised at her question, her or me, but it felt like she’d just given me the Apple from the Tree of Knowledge. A forbidden fruit that was too good to pass up. I turned off the bike and yanked the key out, swinging my leg over the seat. Hell yeah, I’d like some tea. And maybe a little more of this pretty woman who’d captured my attention.
447 #ConcreteAngelsMC words
There you have it. All from one word. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading.