S.B.D
From The Haunted Wordsmith is the Genre Writing Challenge April 25 prompt:
Response should use the photo prompt given
Response should be in specified genre
Today’s genre and image: Romantic Mystery
HAVE FUN WITH IT!
Today’s genre and image: Romantic Mystery
Image by Alejandro Tuzzi from Pixabay
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S.B.D.
Sarah walked into David’s arms. “I have a secret, my love,” she whispered.
David bowed his head so he could better hear her. “Does it involve Gaspard?”
“No, Gaspard has been . . . let’s just say that we won’t be hearing from him anymore.”
“You mean—”
“Shhh, not so loud.”
“The walls?”
“They have ears,” she said.
“I understand.”
Sarah pulled David close and nuzzled into his shoulder. “David, may I ask you a question?”
“Certainly, my love, anything.”
“What’s that smell?”
“I thought it was the dead flowers in your hair but I didn’t want to say anything.”
“So you were just going to let me smell and not say anything?”
“Well, uh, no, I was going to wait until you took them out for bed and then I was going to sneak them into the trash.”
“Gaspard was also passive-aggressive.”
“What’s that, dear?”
“Nothing.” David squinted at Sarah’s suddenly mysterious manner. He pulled his head back and said, “I want to kiss you.”
“Yes, I know, but first things first, what’s that smell?”
“It’s probably my after shave, no big deal. Now kiss me.”
“That’s not Old Spice. I know Old Spice and that’s not it.”
“It’s nothing.”
“What’d you have for lunch today?”
“Nothing.”
“David. Stop being mysterious”.
“You’re the one being mysterious. I thought I was being romantic.”
“You’re being romantically mysterious. Lunch?”
“What about it?”
Sarah sighed. “What did you have?”
“Nothing.”
“David?”
“Frank brought in some stuff.”
“ ‘Stuff’? And don’t try and pull away from me.”
“Brittos.”
“Speak up.”
“You said a minute ago to whisper.”
“Yeah, well, the walls aren’t listening anymore. So?”
“Burritos.”
“Burritos.”
“Yes.”
“Beans?”
“Yufph…”
“Speak up. Beans?”
“What?”
“Beans, David. Was. It. A. Bean. Burrito?”
“Yes.”
“And you thought you could just stand here and sneak it by me and I wouldn’t notice?”
“The pollen count is high. I thought maybe you–”
“You thought.”
“You know, I don’t really smell anything. Sarah, hey, where are you going? Come back.”
“I’m going to get some fresh air.”
David watched her walk away. “I’ll wait here then? Sarah? You coming back? Sarah? Hmm. I don’t think it’s that bad.”
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Michael B. Fishman
Michaelsfishbowl 