Today, I’m trying my hand at Flash Fiction. This is called Journey and is a mere 246 words long.
Just look at her, you’d think she was going to a privately owned island rather than on a week’s package to Tenerife. Bound to have excess baggage. High maintenance, that’s what they say. She’s got the lot, long glossy hair, painted face and nails. Humph, they’re those new fangled nail extensions, can’t even grow her own. Wonder how much else of her is fake … some of that hair could be for sure. And the eyelashes, she wasn’t blessed with those at birth. Flat stomach … lipo? And the boobs – ha! Bet they’re heavy on such a petite frame. Poor thing.
Ooh, hark now, she speaks.
‘Wot number’s our seats Wayne?’
Just as well models, even unknown ones, don’t need to have their voices heard.
‘Lie still love,’ the model is speaking to me. She’s bending over me. Why is she bending over me? I try to get up. Head feels weird. She’s stroking my brow. She says, ‘The doc’s coming, you’ve had a heart attack, just lie still.’
‘Janie, you’re not at work now,’ says Wayne, ‘you’ve got her heart going again, let someone else look after her.’
‘I won’t leave her, Wayne,’ she says.
I can’t speak for some reason. This girl’s not a model, though she could be, she’s so pretty. I must thank her one day soon. How wrong could I be? They always say appearances are deceptive.