What He Said: Flash Fiction Results for Monday’s Muse August 15th, 2016

writing-1209700_960_720

What He Said: Flash Fiction

It was just one interview, one, and yet she felt as if she were trapped in a room filled with flashing camera’s and buzzard-like reporters, all out to take their bite at her. 

Really, she was all alone in an empty cafe, a stupid ball cap squeezing her head a scarf wrapped around her neck like a noose with Lyle in front of her.

Lyle Ready was the head editor for an indie publication that had been gaining a lot of traction lately. Emory couldn’t have cared less about his work, truth was she hardly knew him. Actually, she only knew him through a lost acquaintance. That acquaintance being the girlfriend of her ex’s brother.

Her name was Wren, Wren Ready. Wren was  a sweet girl who Emory owed a huge favor to, and as fate would have it, Wren’s older brother needed a big push in order to take his craft to the next level.

Of course, Wren called Emory. What had been her words, “Hey, lady. you need to clear your name. You need an unbiased platform to do that on and Lyle has that platform. Talk to him. Tell him your side of things. It will be like killing three birds with one stone; you will have cleared your name, Lyle will get a greater boost for business and I will free you from your debt. It’s a win-win-win! At least that’s what he said, and I happen to agree. Lyle that is, that’s what Lyle said.”

At the sound of Lyle’s surprising baritone voice, Emory snapped out of her mental drifting. His caramel eyes stared widely into hers expecting an answer.

Emory ran her finger’s between the noose-scarf and her throat. It’s only one interview. “Sorry, can you repeat the question?” She gave him a half smile, noticed the caramel of his eyes darken a bit before he jotted down a few words in his notebook.

Emory read them upside down but she got the gist of what he’d written. Throat going dry she took a long gulp of the glass of water beside her. He’d basically written that she was too flakey to have done what she was being accused of…at least in his estimation. He’d also said that she was a classic beauty.

She shrugged her shoulders. She was innocent, but at least someone else had come to that conclusion and used his own words. She also appreciated being called beautiful.

THE END

*These are my results for Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt, August,15th, 2016. Follow the link to see the original post with rules and give the prompt a try yourself or share it with a writer friend!

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s