Stolen

Flash Fiction Friday prompt:  Keyword – “stolen”, 300 word limit The stolen car sat outside his rundown apartment.  Leah pulled the tattered blinds and peeked nervously out at it. “Fuck, baby…we needed a ride…so I got us a ride…” His messy black hair, and his blue eyes pleading with her to accept his gift, made…

The Dance

The tempo changes repeatedly,shifting us from waltz to sultrytango, but he is always in the lead,guiding my movements, as if my body could subconsciously steer his hands.which, solid and warm above my waist,wordlessly decide, slowly or in haste,just how much I can withstand. Taking my wrist between his fingers,placing them against his neck, he straightensmy posture.  His…

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