My entry into the weekly Flash Fiction contest. We had to use the theme of “girl next door” and respond to the above photo prompt in a max of 210 words. My story was pulled for being a bit too explicit, which I understand, as one of the rules notes that if it crosses a line, it’s at the contest runner’s discretion. But that’s why I have this blog, for it still to get showcased for those that dabble in the raunchy. I had meant to write a cleaner story, but I got lazy and forgot by the close of Friday. Alas, there’s always next week!
Behind closed curtains fantastical minds wandered. The walls of imagination were outfitted in gold panes and festooned with the opulence of possibility.
Jeffrey, every so often, would take his pointer finger with the scar tissue and ply the curtain apart. From his vantage point, he could see the light on in her room.
He imagined her reading Joyce or Atwood or Dickens or Poe and that the light was actually candlelight. Soon, his hand was below his pants; the scar tissue on his left hand cut the flesh on his penis causing him to bleed. But that didn’t stop him, especially when the imagined candlelight danced into the darkness.
Possibilities. He closed the curtain. Moaned his longing into the chasm between them, only the moonlight’s pool absorbed it.
One day, thought Jeffrey, he’d be standing in that room instead of gazing from afar, watching as the flickering candlelight teased the contours of her face, the shade of her hair and the tight unfurling of a smile.
But the chasm, for now, was too daunting for a small man.
Here, behind the curtain, he was safe to allow his imagination to roam.
To touch her warm skin when her eyes closed and she, too, drifted into the imaginative world of dreams.