Not Prince Charming…

This week’s six sentence story is inspired by the word of the week FORGE. At first I thought metal, blacksmithing, because I have done that, and then I went in a completely different direction, specifically forgery. Follow our narrator as they look for love, and have some interesting experiences with online dating. While it isn’t exactly fluff, this one is a lot lighter than my usual entries, so enjoy without warnings.

I was young, okay looking, smart, and I had a bit of a warped sense of humor, but I was starting to wonder what was wrong with me that I attracted this kind of guy.

I had three friends review my profile after the second foot fetishist, because while I roll with your kink is not my kink and that’s okay, I had to know if there was something seriously wrong there, that was giving out a vibe that I was into the weird dudes.

My mom said I just had too high of standards, that I was looking for the perfect Disney prince, but since I had never given her the full story, she didn’t know that my last few dates had included an unemployed mime, a guy who used me as a ride downtown for a job interview, and a guy who apparently only took the date because he thought my hobby of painting would somehow translate into me being able to forge travel documents for him.

Today’s prospect chewed with his mouth open, not like a little while covering it with his hand as he spoke, I mean there was food actually falling out of his mouth, back onto his plate, and the ease at which he scooped it back in let me know that this was a fairly common occurrence.

I tried to mask my horror, but something must have shown, because my waiter told me I had an urgent call, and since no one knew that I was here, I had either obtained a stalker, or this was a kind generous soul who was trying to rescue me from having to find my own way to wriggle out of the date from hell.

Our eyes met as I went to thank him near the door, and it was like a scene in a movie where time just seems to stand still, then rush by all at once, my date yelling across the restaurant to see if everything was okay, so I fled the scene with a phone number in my hand, a promise of better dates to come.


Despite how it may read, I have no issues with online dating, though one of these men is based on a real online dating experience a friend had, I will let you guess which one.


Three of a Kind

So this week’s story is a little out of character, and I am not sure what I was thinking when I was writing it. It feels a little like a summary of a longer story, but follow the story of Shilah, Stephan, and Grayson, who find a different way to look at happily ever after.

Every morning she woke up, miserable, exhausted, over tired, and then she remembered. A smile slowly crossed her face as she turned at the edge of the bed to take a long look at her lovers.

It wasn’t common, and most people would never be able to handle this kind of relationship, but for them this was it.

Shilah and Stephan had been friends since they were kids, and half way through high school they met Grayson. Until that moment Shilah had been able to ignore the crush that Stephan had on her, and it seemed that Gray changed everything, throwing it all out of balance.

Soon Steph was more into Gray than Steph, and then it seemed he bounced between them until her and Gray finally started dating.

It flamed out after two and a half years, not due to lack of love, but due to lack of resources. They both had things they wanted more than each other, and at some point there just wasn’t enough time being made.

They said they would be friends after, and well, they were. A year later when Gray and Shilah went to a fundraiser for her Mom’s work, it was as friends, and soon it spiralled into more. A year and a half later it started to spiral back out.
By that time Steph was living with them, a small door-less office had a bead curtain to delineate the transition into bedroom. He had tried dorms, living alone, roommates, and after two months a couch surfing had finally, reluctantly accepted the office conversion.

When Shilah and Gray had started melting down, Steph had stepped up to help out, by going to Shilah’s work events, or watching stupid sci-fi movies with Gray. Gray and Shilah had in turn stepped up their friendship with Steph with treats from the grocers, or an afternoon out at the park to people watch.

When a classmate had casually commented on her partners, Shilah hadn’t even really parsed it. When the subject of polyamory came up, and she got several pointed looks, she explained that they were just good friends.

It was a kind girl with purple hair and big glasses that explained that she understood, but did Shilah know that they could be more?

It was like the genie had been let out of the bottle and from then on, it’s all she could think about.

In the days that followed it was always with her. Even when she wasn’t actively thinking about it, it was still there, lurking in the back of her mind.

Multiple google searches, followed by history clearing just in case, had given her a better idea of what she was looking at and to her surprise it was a lot more than the threesome that she was thinking about.

Honestly, with her own lack of interest in the bedroom lately due to midterms, it was what they were already doing. The thing was though, that sex changed everything and while they had been together in a few configurations, this would be different, more, and if they fucked this up it would be the end of a friendship that she wasn’t sure she could take.

Even bringing it up could ruin everything, and once she put it out there, it was a bell that could not be un-rung.

She was not however as cautious as she had thought, she realized as she looked up at the screen. The three of them were sitting curled up on the couch watching a movie with a triad relationship and she doubted it was an accident, especially with the way that Steph wouldn’t meet her eyes.

It had only taken 5 or 6 times of Steph looking away and flushing before Gray had realized something was up and by the end of the film, he two was flushing.

Bell rung.

So she started to talk, laid out her case, and then fled, mortified, to the small café down the street mumbling coffee as she stumbled out the door.

She sat on one of the overstuffed couches drowning her sorrows in a coffee that was mostly sugar, letting the crappy music wash through her when she heard a familiar cough.

She looked up, and there were her boys, red faced and awkward as they sat on either side of her.

They sat in silence for a while until, almost so quietly she couldn’t here him, Steph said that they were in.

That was 23 years ago, and against all odds, here they were, still together, still happy, still them.

The Reddest of Flags

So this week I fell off the posting wagon between finals, final assignments, work, NaNoWriMo, renovations, and an upcoming visitor, I forgot to edit my Friday work, and forgot to schedule this, my six sentence story based on the word valet. Follow our non-specific narrator as they drive up to a place that is out of there league, and realize that this is no ordinary dinner.

I knew that a mistake had been made the second I pulled up to the restaurant, which was far more fancy than he had let on.  The complementary valet parking stood out like a giant red flag, warning me that there was danger within and I should have turned around right then and there.

I walked into the place, glad I had dressed up, but not meeting the income level to wear clothes that would pass muster in a place like this, so I held my head up and did my superhero walk, because confidence covers a multitude of sins.

I sat down at the table, waiting for him and when the pre-paid champagne was offered I figured out what was going on, turned it down, and I asked for directions to the bathroom.

I sat hyperventilating in the stall, and the text that said he was running 20 minutes late was like a blessing, the out that I had been waiting for. 

I slipped out the front, palming a 50$ to the host at the front door to say I hadn’t arrived, retrieved my car and sped out before I could be spotted, sending a text about a last minute emergency, and making a plan on how I was going to break up with Mike, because tonight I discovered that this was not a man I wanted to marry.

White Knight

Hello Hello, and welcome to the event that will be Genre Flashfiction February. Yes, I am a little early on this one, but week one launched on Romance. This is the response to round one prompt: Write a piece under 300 words about the moment the character realizes they are in love. Follow Dan, as she realizes that Clive is a keeper. Enjoy!

He cringed when he heard the knock on the door, not looking forward to telling Clive that dinner was off, and that he had forgotten to call him to tell Clive dinner was off before he had schlepped all the across town to meet him.

He opened the door, and before he could say a word, Clive was in, waving a bag of what looked like takeout as he spoke. “I come bearing sustenance, for what I assume is going to be two hours of watching you try and finish your paper. Take five, eat this,” Clive jammed a sub into his hand, “and I will start looking over what your have so far.”

Dan gaped, looking down at the sub, from his favourite shop, a 45-minute detour at least by bus, then back at Clive who didn’t seem the least bit bothered to spend his only night off reviewing Dan’s homework and he knew, in that moment, that he was in love with this man.