The Misfire

Photo by: wildverbs

On the tiny isle of Miklos, resorts sprouted up everywhere. The super-rich and the famous flocked to its opulent hotels and warm seas. Here, Niko plied his gold-digging trade.

He found her sitting in a beach chair, broad-rimmed hat flowing around her hair. A filmy, white dress fluttered in the breeze across the seat back. Birds flocked above her. Clearly, she was alone.

He approached from behind, letting his rich voice touch her. “The sea seeks its bliss in the beauty of your eyes. The wind longs to caress your skin. Your beautiful dress dances across your body, wondering at the glorious curves of you.”

He saw her twitch at his words, knowing she was touched by his practiced oratory. He drew near to her.

“Even the white birds flock to be close to your beauty.”

As he stepped next to her, she removed her hat.

“I’ll tell my wife you like her dress,” said Frank, lounging against the dress and scratching at his beard. “And I’m pretty sure the seagulls after my fish & chips.”
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Written for: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/07/09/fffaw-challenge-173rd/

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