I haven't responded to a 100 Word Challenge in 100 years. Last time I looked, it was Velvet Verbosity prompting us to write, but the torch has been passed to Thin Spiral Notebook, a regular contributor. This week's prompt is "Job." I gave it a whirl for old time's sake and because I need to get back to more creative pursuits:
"It's not my job to fuck you on your birthday!" She said it with a smile and a wink.
"Good thing it's not my birthday." I winked back.
She was hot shit, and used to be she didn't know it. Used to be she was pretty beat down, but she came back from that pure on fire. Tore up jeans, tight t-shirt, and no makeup. She could drop any jaw she wanted.
"So..." I asked, looking her up and down and grinning. "Whose job is it to fuck you on your birthday, doll, and where do I get an application?"
Comfort books. Is this even a thing?
2 days ago