This is a quick story as an apology for my lack of update this week. Life, work and Christmas preparations have derailed me. On top of that, Jem from our current serial (Tale of 2 Cities) has popped up in my latest draft with…interesting results.
In tribute to Erica's 100 word stories, here is a micro-story below. I couldn't make the 100 limit but I think you will enjoy it, just the same.
The elf shivered on the street corner, her green, felt hat drooping in sympathy with her shoulder. Carney, standing opposite her, sucked on her vape-stick and raised his eyebrows at the golden smoke. He was insulated from the night's chill in his grey overcoat.
'“Whiskey taste,” he muttered. “I expected something sweeter.”
“Yeah,” the elf agreed. Up close, she had freckles and thin, hungry lips. She was small enough to tuck under his armpit, into the coat’s folds. “Everyone does. It's one healluva PR job we did, aligning with the Santa brand to make us seem harmless. It took centuries.”
Carney nodded, confused. This was not how flirting should go. A little conversation over a smoke and then a kiss, or at least a phone number. She had eyed him up across street, after all. “Um, yeah. Harmless.” He coughed. “Great ears by way. Really lifelike.” He licked his lips. They felt oddly numb. He hadn't had that much to drink.
“Thank you. They take after my father's side.”
She blew the vape smoke into a ring and offered it back to him. Carney took it out of reflex.
“So, what's your name?” he attempted, after another drag. Fuck, he was slurring now!
She smile, for the first time. She had perfectly white, straight teeth.
“Oh, I don’t think you need to know that,” she said lightly. Carney felt his knees crumple under him. He couldn't feel his feet. From far away, he heard her speak again.
“Just know I'll make it quick. We're not supposed to snack on the job.”