The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and the lightning bug. Mark Twain

Friday, April 8, 2011

The Apple of His Eye

This site was originally intended as a place to share a variety of work, though it has swiftly become home to Ted Gray and the rest of the Stockbridge cast.  As a quick time out, I thought I'd post this very brief piece of flash fiction.  One of the writing sites I visit has a daily contest wherein writers have 24 hours to complete a 300-words-or-less story, with character, setting, conflict and resolution, using the prompt words provided.

Below is my winning entry for April 7, using the prompt words disguise, smile and apple.  Enjoy!

For those with an interest, the site is and it is an interesting place for amateur authors to check out other work and get feedback on their own.

Thanks as always! 


The Apple of His Eye

Steve loved Carla.  It was a true enough love, considering they had never met.  There were certainly reasons enough for that; Carla was a famous underwear model and Steve was a retired cop, short, balding, tending to fat.

His love, based on what he had seen in catalogues, was deep and abiding.  He loved her startling blue eyes, her brilliant smile, the gentle curves made visible when she wore the tiny things she wore.  He had to meet her, to win her love.

But how to arrange a meeting? He had tried letters to her agent, resulting at first in a signed photo and after a while in a stern legal request that he please stop writing.  Steve began to despair of ever meeting Carla.

Then he saw in the newspaper that her underwear company was putting on a fashion show that spring in his town.  This was his big chance.  He had to seize it.  What he needed was a disguise…

The fashion show was a success, as might be expected when the main draw is skinny young women parading about in various states of undress.  Steve was there, he was in his disguise, he was steadily making his way toward the dressing rooms.  Everybody saw him; he would have been impossible to miss.  Laughter trailed him as he waddled through the ballroom, but he didn’t care.  It was working.

Squeezing through the door to the back hallway, Steve began to sweat.  He was excited, of course, as anyone would be when about to meet the love of their life, but it was also very hot in his disguise.  It had been a stroke of brilliance, really, dressing as the spokesman for another underwear company.  That was when the cops surrounded him.

“Arrest that apple!” one of them cried.   

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