Sunday Photo Fiction: We All Look


Dressed in cut-off denim shorts and a black halter top, a slim figure with rounded breasts and hips, distracted men who passed by her at the race track.

Many females with their men, gave the woman dirty looks. Elma elbowed Nathaniel.

“I can’t help it,” Nathaniel complained. “It’s a biological instinct.”

“Yeah right,” said Elma is wife of thirty-years. 

“It’s true Elma. Men naturally stare at other woman, it’s an evolutionary thing.” Nathaniel said.

“Oh hell. Did you have to bring this up?” 

“Let me explain. Once men look they’re done. Even if in that moment we’re comparing a pretty lady to our wives, we don’t remember what woman we were looking at.” 

Elma muttered something under her breath.

“I’ve never been able to not look. Most guys would say the same, even our sons. But your average guy doesn’t want to be with a stranger he’s giving the once over,” Nathaniel said.

“We’re with our wives because we love them. Because we like being with them, even if their figures aren’t perfect, or they have stretch marks from babies, it doesn’t matter.”

Elma stopped walking. “I guess that makes sense. But why are you still checking out that woman? You’ve already seen how she looks?” Nathaniel mumbled something.

At the same time, local male strippers were signing posters for women at the race track. Elma shrieked, “I’ll be right back.” 

Returning, she peered at her signed poster and back at the shirtless muscular strippers with a smile on her lips.

 “Ahem,” Nathaniel said. 

Elma smiled at Nathaniel and clasped his hand in hers.

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Sorry for the lateness on this prompt. I’m not into race car driving and had to think of a way to approach this picture. Thanks to Alistair Forbes who hosts SPF.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

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Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers: A Mural for Lola


 George stared up at the ugly green water tower. He was a wiley guy for the age of seventy-six and truth be told, he hated the colour of  the water tower. George rolled his eyes at people who called the water tower festive at Christmas and said: “like hell it’s a festive colour,” to anyone who would listen.

One day George talked with his bestfriend Andy and they decided to paint the water tower. Andy was a gifted artist and George had tenacity. They got the permanents needed from the Mayor’s office. Then they hired some boys to paint the tower with white primer. When it was dry, George and Andy went up and painted the lines in for the mural in black.

Some of the people in town were furious when they saw the design. Elma (who wasn’t much for change) and her half of the town council thought the water tower should be green. What George and Andy were painting was an abomination forcing religion on people. Elma filed a petition to stop the painting.

Meanwhile, Andy found every available artist of all ages who could volunteer and they began to paint the mural with colour. When the day came to reveal the mural the entire town stared in awe at the beautiful Nativity that was painted around their water tower. 

Elma still insisted it be painted over back to green, but her appeal was denied and she passed away the next day a bitter women of sixty-eight. George and Andy were proud of what they had turned the water tower into. 

Late that night, George looked at a picture at his bedside table of a luscious brunette in a bikini in the 1960’s. She had been his wife Lola. It was for her he had undertook the plan of painting the water tower. Lola had loved the Nativity story and Christmas. 
 

Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting and Sonya of Only 100 Words for providing the prompt picture.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.