Women Like Me on Writer Unboxed!

One of the websites I visit DAILY is Writer Unboxed ~ in short a website all "about the craft and business of fiction".  I love it.  The articles are informative, encouraging and engaging. This summer they've been running The 7 Sizzling Sundays of Summer Flash Fiction Contest, Week 5.  I entered week 5 and although I didn't win, I got a respectable number of likes, so I thought I'd share the piece I entered (below) and introduce the site in case you don't know about them already. AND you can check out the winning stories as well! 

You can find full rules on the site, but the basic rules are:

The story must be inspired by that week’s visual prompt.

Each submission must be 250 words or less. 

Each story must contain a beginning, middle, and end.

All submitted work must be original–not published anywhere else, and written by you, for this contest.

Women Like Me

The box arrived by courier around noon.  Big and gold, with a dark red velvet bow. 

She opened the card:

        
         Meet me.

         Lexington and Park ~ 8 pm.

         Wear only this.

Slowly she pulled the bow apart and lifted the lid.  Her knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, pulling the black ankle length mink cape out of the box and down with her.

Dear God, what had he done? 

She thought back to their stroll last month past Williamson Furs.  “In another lifetime,” she murmured, gazing into the window. 

“So get it, Rebecca.  It would be beautiful on you,” he said, surprising her. 

“Harry, women like me don’t wear furs.”

“What do you mean, ‘women like you’?”

“Sensible, middle aged women.  For god sakes, Harry, I’ll be 50 next week. Where would I wear it, grocery shopping?  It’s just a silly dream…”

And they’d walked away.  And that should have been the end of it.  He couldn’t really expect her to… really, could she?

At 8 pm, she approached the man at the corner.

“Harry…” she called softly.

He turned towards her.  She let the mink hang open just enough and he smiled as he approached her, then slowly ran a finger from the pounding pulse in her neck, down between her breasts.

 “Women like you Rebecca?  You can wear this anywhere and anyhow, you damn well please.”

He pulled the edges closed, pulling her towards him.  “Any other dreams for a woman like you?”