My flash fiction:
Ice tinged wind scrapes my face, a fitting herald. Once inside, empty eyes and cold smiles top prim versions of the latest fashions. The woman who’s undoubtedly been assigned to welcome newcomers approaches. My replies to her small talk questions become progressive more outrageous till her facade cracks into a genuine smile. Perhaps there’s hope.

Bravo!!!
ReplyDeleteHumour has diffused many a precarious situation and relaxed many a pretentious buttwad.
Love ya girl!
xoxo
You know, that gift of charm is so rare. Don't let up on the stiff faces, eh?
ReplyDeleteWhere there's lunch, there's hope.
ReplyDeletei so want to arrive at some prim tea party on the back of red molly with you.
ReplyDeletethis was nice amiga, i want some tea now
ReplyDeleteI bet you could make the exhibits at Madame Tussards smile.
ReplyDeleteOMG You had to do a LUNCHEON?
ReplyDelete:O
LUNCHEONNNNNN
LUNCHEONNNN
LUNCHEONNNN!!!!
Croly HAP! How do you DO that? I am impressed. As usual. And I am sticking with what Joe says.
ReplyDeleteI hope. I hope.
Wow. You packed a lot into 55 words!
ReplyDelete