Flash Fiction: The Oldest Story

I meet Eric in the cafe two blocks from my house. It’s quiet here. The vibe is faintly Parisian – snooty but somehow still warm. Eric is not my boyfriend. Eric, I know, should not even be my friend, and yet we continue to find ourselves here, in this faintly Parisian cafe two blocks from … Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Curious, or Naked

She knocks on the door and waits for an answer. Sweat beads on her palm, on her brow – she has never done this before. Not this, but the other. The more confusing. The more complicated. She’d been invited, been asked here. The other woman, the one with the dark hair, had been so suggestive, … Continue reading