I have this thing I used to do. I would write one paragraph flash fiction using words or images as a prompt. This is one of those. I had written this following some words I saw on Facebook. I don't remember them exactly.
It's a little on the steamy side. I hope it finds you well.
It started as a joke, Richard and I, over beer bottles. We were lanky boys, slowly growing into men."You can't do it, Mofe. You don't have the balls," Richard had dared me. I smirked and gave him the middle finger. A bet was struck. The first day we walked in, we were greeted by a sea of expressionless faces. Angry businessmen shamefully shuffling out the door to begin their day of unbearable numbness and despair. Half-finished bad coffees forgotten as men hastily zip themselves up, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Desperate underpaid sex workers getting their heads pushed into stinky crotches. Richard nodded and took the opposite direction. That was when I spotted her. I liked Kay. Her tawny eyes; her soft blonde hair tied into a bun. Above all, her lyrical moans as she carried out her duty. Then one day, she disappeared. I didn't ask. You never do. I never stopped going back. With each visit, I sank more into myself. Like I said, it was only a joke, nothing more.
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