Hello and welcome to this week’s hop. Thanks for taking the time to join us. We appreciate you! This week’s challenge comes from the amazing Brenda Margriet:
I missed the last Flash Fiction week, so I decided to assign it again. Write 500 words using these three words: grandmother, freckle, giant.
My grandmother loved my freckles. She said they were adorable. I hated them. Who wants dark spots all across their nose? But she said that one day I would meet a man who would appreciate how unique they were and how special I was. And he would be the one for me.
Well, Grandma, no such luck to date.
I had time before I had to be at work, so I thought I’d treat myself to a fancy coffee at that new shop. It was a bright, hot morning and the cool interior of the store was a welcome respite. But my eyes hadn’t quite adjusted to the dim interior and I bumped straight into a giant.
“So sorry,” I mumbled, as I looked up and up to find his face. His very handsome face. But the man had to be well over six feet four and I’m just five feet nothing.
“I’m not,” he replied and grinned. Straight white teeth, a tanned complexion, and eyes the color of the sea after a storm. My heart did a somersault. “I like when a girl throws herself at me.”
Really? “Really?” Of course he was arrogant.
“No, not really. In fact, they never do. Guess it’s because I’m so easy to spot. If you’re looking up.”
Which I clearly wasn’t. But I should have been. Not so arrogant after all.
“You could make it up to me,” he said, a sly grin lifting his lips. I guess he noted my less than enthusiastic expression. “No, no. Just sit for a bit and have a coffee with me. I’ll even buy.”
I was suspicious, but this was a public place and he seemed pretty harmless, even though he was very tall. And broad-shouldered.
“Ulterior motive?” I asked, not knowing what to expect he would answer.
“Yes. I need to work on my math and observation skills.” He nodded very seriously.
“I don’t understand.” I was truly confused.
“I’m guessing forty-six, but I’d like to be sure.”
I just stared into those teal-blue, sincere eyes. “Forty-six?” I managed.
“Why the freckles, of course. There is nothing so adorable on a woman. But you must know that.”
“So I was told. By a very smart woman.”
Now let’s hop over to the amazing A.S. Fenichel and see what she wrote.
Have you read her books? They are fabulous!