Me Time

For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #191, based on the image above from shutterstock. This one is nice and short, a little over 600, four minutes or so.

“What’s the problem?”

“It’s just…”

“What?” She studied him quizzically.

“Have I done something to upset you?”

Josie turned deftly onto her side, pushing the duvet down slightly to view him, and propped her sumptuous head onto a delicate elbow. It was true, in such a short space of time, she and Tim had been inseparable. Head over heels, even.

How best to word this? Her tone softened.

“Tim”, she gently stroked his cheek, her flawless latte skin contrasting with his morning stubble, “this is incredible, what’s happening. Meeting you, it’s been a tornado.”

Tim ruffled his fair hair to wake himself, before placing his powerful hand upon hers. He could sense the ‘but’ coming.

“Do you realise, it’s a week since I last ventured home, more than picking up fresh clothes? I just want to spend a quiet evening with Nicola. Just chilling. Maybe watch a DVD? Listen to her bitch about her latest fella? Have a girls’ night in? We’ve been chatting exclusively on WhatsApp the last few days.”

Bravo! And I avoided saying ‘suffocated’!

Visibly crestfallen, what could he do? He couldn’t begrudge her time with her flatmate, could he? As if to console, Josie’s head disappeared under the quilt and she gently kissed Tim’s flaccid dick.

“Besides, my bits need time to recover from that.” Only partially untrue. He had been… insatiable so far. “But right now, I’m late for work.” She bounced out of bed.

“We’re still meeting tomorrow, though, right? Don’t forget we booked Il Tovolo’s.”

“Of course.” She loved Italian anyway! “Remind me what time?”


“Then I’ll come round here for seven.”


On her way home, Josie visited the supermarket opposite the station, where she picked up a ready meal plus some emergency supplies: a bag of cool tortillas, a bottle of special-offer prosecco and the obligatory tub of Cherry Garcia. Clutching her booty, she struggled to open the front door one-handed. In the hallway, she was assaulted by the strong smell of perfume from upstairs.

“Nicky? It’s me. I have some goodies for us down here.”

Her roommate appeared at the top of the stairs. Half-dressed, her normally free-flowing dark curls were pinned neatly to her head.

“Oh, you’re back! And not a moment too soon! Here, come and help me fix my dress.”

“Let me put this stuff away, then I’ll be right up.”

In Nicky’s bedroom, Josie continued. “Jesus Christ hon, you’re in full feather tonight. What’s the occasion?” Grasping the zip, she spotted Nicky’s bra. “And you’ve got your sexy skivvies on? Who’s the lucky guy?”

Nicky turned and smiled. “Well, let’s just say you’re not the only one who can sniff out a hard cock! This guy from work asked me out, he’s taking me to La Truffe Noire.” With a wink, she added, “And no, I’m not wearing my best underwear. Not all of it, anyhow!”

La Truffe Noire. Posh indeed! On the High Road, even Josie had been there only once. “So, I don’t suppose you’re tempted by my lasagne, then? Or, by Ben and Jerry’s?”

“All the more for you, gorge. But save some ice cream – I might need it later! Pass me my shoes. Do you think they go with this dress?” The crimson shoes matched Nicky’s revealing, above-the-knee number perfectly. How could any man resist? Nicky had always thought her legs her greatest asset, and these heels showed her toned calves off to the full. Without waiting for a response, Nicky cancelled the question, continuing, “Ach, never mind. He’ll be here in five minutes anyway. It’s too late to change now. Hopefully, my feet will be the last thing on his mind anyway.”


With the house to herself, Josie’s loose end was resolved when she realised her opportunity; how long it had been since she had an evening to herself.

Prompt image for the Fandango's Flash Fiction prompt


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