Hi Readers! Welcome to our first Fiction Fun Theme. Fiction Fun is where the authors on this site are given a theme to write a scene of their own making. This is just a fun way to see how different each author can be when given similar ideas, as well as see what each author’s genre has to offer.
Our first theme is “First kiss interrupted by an animal,” and I am the ginea-pig. I hope you enjoy …
Harold and Violet
Harold sat on the park bench under the maple tree, his aged heart pounding a heavy rhythm. Had he been this nervous when his late wife, Eunice, leaned in for their first kiss seventy years ago? He searched the vast hallways of his memory only to come up empty.
But Eunice, now with the Lord, could not be lonely … as Harold had been until Violet entered his life. She was like the scent of an apple pie wafting through his boyhood home. Oh, he loved that smell … Violet, too.
And here she was, gliding toward him, wearing that flowered dress, like a walking garden, carrying a box of Krispy Kremes, steel-colored curls piled on top of her head.
“Here ya go, Harold.” She smoothed her skirt and sat beside him.
He received the box, forcing his wide smile closed around the gaps in his back teeth. “My favorite. You always know what a man wants.”
“Yes, I do.” Did she just wiggle her brows? “So, Harold, why did you ask me here this morning?”
Harold smoothed an errant swath of hair back over the bare spot. “Well … I … just wanted to see you … that’s all.”
Violet’s smile twirled his insides. “Me, too.” She dropped her gaze to the delicate hands in her lap.
“Mmmm. These are delicious.” Extra insulin’d be in order this afternoon. Anything for Violet.
She batted her eyelashes. “I’m glad you like them.”
If only he could swallow the lump in his throat as easily as the donut. “Violet?”
“Yes.” Her eyelashes fluttered more.
“I was just wonderin’ …”
She sucked in breath, her gaze to his.
“Would you mind … if I kissed you?”
Her smile lengthened. “Why, no, Harold. Not a bit.” She leaned in, eyelids dropped, lips inviting.
Harold bent to meet her mouth, but just as the soft, moist skin met his, she jerked away.
He opened his eyes to his beloved screaming and writhing, hands in hair, where a pigeon perched its scrawny legs.
“Get it out! Get it out!” she cried, pulling at the bird, but its legs were tangled in her curls.
Harold shuffled from the bench, and reached a gnarled hand to extract the creature, but Violet gyrated so wildly he couldn’t grab hold. “Violet, calm yourself. I can’t help you if you dance about.”
“Calm myself?” She glared at him, hands around the body of the fowl. “I have a bird in my hair, and you want me to calm myself?”
“Yes, dear.” He reached again for the pigeon. “It’s only a bird.”
She stepped back. “Only a bird?” She glanced to his swath. “Easy for you to say. You have nothing for it to land in.”
Harold’s heart sank as he patted the stray hairs that battled the breeze. He glanced at the bird nestled firmly in Violet’s tresses. A chuckle rumbled from the depths of his chest. It bubbled from his mouth, then took control of his body. Serves him right, falling for an eighty-year old. Practically a puppy.
Violet’s eyes narrowed. She removed her hands from her hair. The pigeon cooed. Violet harrumphed, pivoted, and strode away. An errant Frisbee sailed right into her curls, sending the pigeon careening from Violet’s head. Yet she sauntered five more paces before turning, and harrumphing one last time.
Harold roared tears of pleasure. He might just die of a heart attack, but what a way to go. He sat back on the bench, and took another bite of donut as he watched his lovely lady shrink from sight. Boy, that hip-replacement made her fast. Tomorrow, he’d call when she cooled off. But this time he’d invite her to a restaurant … indoors.
At the Edge of a Dark Forest