I’ve been writing flash fiction this month.
Since I can’t settle on an idea for a longer project, I decided to write some flash fiction. That way, I’ll keep my writing muscles busy. And, I’m holding out hope that I will stumble into an idea that ignites my passion for a novella or novel.
This actually used a character I dreamed up in February. She’s someone who might intrigue me enough that I write her story.
From April 5, 2021:
“Looking good.” The maple syrup voice speaking accented English oozed over her.
Donica froze, half her rear still inside the minivan. Her son David bolted from the passenger side and reached through the sliding door toward his sisters. He’d grown into such a great helper, but today that could backfire.
She leaned into the van and said quietly, “I’ll get Bella. You an Risa go play on the swings.”
The small playground for their apartment complex offered a bit of distraction for the kids. After the day in childcare at Riverside while she was working, they might be over the novelty of slides and swings, but she didn’t want them witnessing this confrontation.
Her gut churned, making her forget how she’d been looking forward to getting home and serving up the pot of bean soup she’d started that morning.
After David and Risa slipped away hand-in-hand, she slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder, shut the driver’s door and sucked in a fortifying breath.
Javier Martinez lounged against the hood of her Sienna with his arms crossed over a noticeably buff chest. Looked like he had been in the prison body building program. Her heart revved like a souped up racecar.
Yes, he was still the most handsome man she’d ever locked lips with. And bad news.
Jesus, help me be strong. This man is a walking temptation.
“Javier, I didn’t expect to see you.”
“I got out a few months early. Good behavior. Overcrowding.” His black eyes scanned her, resting on her chest and then her hips. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and lust heated his gaze.
Her traitorous body responded as if his fingers had stroked her instead of his hungry gaze. She gripped the skirt of her jersey dress.
“Did you miss me as much as I missed you?”
She gulped, trying to make saliva on command. “It’s been a long time.”
“I dreamed about you.” The lasciviousness of the next suggestive glance down her body told her exactly what those dreams had entailed.
Parts of her body she hadn’t thought about for many months came alive at his words. Man, she wanted his hands on her. Reenacting his dreams sounded amazing.
No. Lord, I’m not going there. I’m done with that.
Wasn’t she? She wanted to be, but in this moment she didn’t think her willpower and good sense could protect her from sliding back into the familiar pleasures that had demolished her dreams six years ago.
“Why are you here?”
“To see you. To be with you.” He stepped closer, and his heat made her body flush with desire. “I told you I’d be back.”
What had been a promise to a desperate pregnant teenager writhed down her spine like a threat. She didn’t want him in her life. She was doing well with her new job and making new friends at Riverside. He would drag her back to the old lifestyle she’d swallowed her pride to get away from.
“I’ve moved on.”
His fingers darted out to twirl a lock of her hair, still longer than her shoulders but shorter than when they’d been together. He stepped close enough only a sheet of paper could slide between his chest and hers. She ached for his hands to fulfil the promise in his eyes.
No. That’s not what she wanted. She shook her head and stepped back.
“Your body remembers. It’s telling me you haven’t moved on at all.” He stepped into her again, letting his hip brush hers as his hand cupped the back of her head.
His face descended toward hers. After a paralyzing moment, she wrenched free. She panted as if she’d run a mile.
“I need to take care of my kids. And I have moved on, even if I still think you’re handsome.”
She retreated around the van, hiding inside while she opened the restraints on Bella’s seat. Her beautiful curly-headed daughter flung herself into Donica’s heaving chest. Breathless, she struggled to snag the diaper bag and slide the door closed.
Of course, Javier stood between her and the sidewalk. He glanced at the baby in her arms.
“You’ve been busy. Making your own welfare brood.” His wide lips curled up. “Your mama taught you well.”
She wanted to slap him. Fury burned away the last hint of attraction. How had she forgotten this? He’d been the first to remind her of her low beginnings. If he knew how she’d risen above them, he’d do his best to derail that success. And she would never allow that.
What do you think? Is it more like a chapter from a book? Or would you consider it a flash fiction story?