Instead Of Lubricant
She asked for ointment and our giggles ruined it, so we ended up at the luncheonette. Instead of water, I asked for tonic. She called me lurid and I didn’t understand. She said it meant brilliant. We wrote a postcard, beginning with “Dear Lambs,” ending with “Your Dam and Sire.” One never knows what the day will bring, she said. I’m glad it brought ewe, I answered.
For further reading, check out FlashFiction.Net’s suggested readings of flash fiction and prose poetry collections, anthologies, and craft books, by clicking here.