Flash Fiction Challenge: "Good To See You, My Dear"

About a week ago, I received this through Google.  It seemed to be an invite ... an invite to do something I truly enjoy ... writing a fiction story.  Here, read it for yourself:

"Your mission if you chose to accept it: Incorporate the above image into a mysterious flash fiction story of 1500 words or less. If you know of anyone who would be interested, please extend the invite to them.

You'll write your post on your blog and share it here. We'll read each others words and it'll be a lovely way to bring in the new year."

And, here's the image:

So now, I bring to you my little story.  I hope you enjoy!

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Good To See You, My Dear

You're walking faster tonight. You must be feeling the cold. Are you thinking about how warm it was earlier today when the sun was shining ever so bright?

Do you realize that when you walk you twist your right hip outwards an inch or so? It's not unattractive, so don't feel embarrassed by it. In fact, it gives your butt a little side bounce. Kind of turns me on a little. Actually, it turns me on a lot!

I first noticed it a couple of weeks ago when you walked home from the grocery store. Your arms, so full of plastic bags, made you look so helpless. I could have grabbed you then, but I didn't. I enjoy savoring the view for a while before indulging in the meal, if you know what I mean.

You live in the apartment building just across the street from me. Every night I watch you come home. You rotate out and pull both your legs out of the car at once, instead of one at a time, and stand up in one continuous motion. How you achieve that with your purse and computer case in your arms is beyond me. You're really in great shape!

I bet it's because of the exercises you go through each morning. You get out of bed, yawning and stretching as you stand in the glow of the morning sun by the side of your bed. Then, without even dressing, you start right in with the toe touches and the jumping jacks. I love the way your nightie bounces atop your boobs. It makes getting up early worth it for me.

One might say I'm obsessed with you. Well, I guess I am.

You're so naive as to how beautiful you are. I watch you changing outfits over and over in the morning, trying to find exactly the right combination before you go out. My dear, you look good in anything … or nothing.

Okay, time to stop those thoughts. I won't be able to walk if I keep that up. I think I need to start wearing boxer shorts instead of briefs. Watching you makes one realize how restrictive briefs really are.

You really must stop letting people spend time at your apartment, though. They're taking advantage of your kindness while you're gone during the day. It makes me so mad to see them hanging out with their friends, smoking dope while you're working hard to make ends meet. I'm guessing you're wondering where your friend with the short brown hair has gotten off to, aren't you? Don't worry, I saw her going into your top dresser drawer and stealing some cash from you. I made sure that won't ever happen again.

She didn't struggle that much. Almost not worth the effort.

And, that overweight woman with the dyed blonde hair that stayed with you a week or two ago is a nosy bitch. I'm guessing she's your mother, or perhaps an aunt from the way you greeted her. Dyed hair and too many wrinkles to be anything else, she was. I had to laugh at the way you seemed so happy to see her and then went into your bedroom and covered your ears with your hands as if to say, “Damn, just shut up and go back home!”

And, when you left for work she searched every drawer and closet in your apartment. Yeah, she found your pot, and even smoked a little of it, just in case you notice you're running a little short next time you light up. She also found your vibrator. But, don't worry, she didn't try it anywhere but on her right boob. She turned it on, smiled when it started and rolled it over her boob again and again. She must have giggled for five minutes before finally shutting it off. Funny, she looked like she hated to put it away. She probably bought one on the way home. Wanna bet?

And, while we're talking about people in your life, your boyfriend is a real jerk. Seriously, it seems like every time you two are talking about something and you leave the room to go to the kitchen or bathroom, he gives you a two handed bird. Yep! Both middle fingers raised in statuesque form as he mouths “Fuck You” over and over. He really does have anger issues.

You could really do so much better than him. He mistreats you all the time. And, don't tell me he doesn't. I see your face. You look like you want so much more than he can offer. He comes over, eats your food, watches your television, and then uses your body to get himself off, not caring if you reach your peak or not. You deserve so much more.

Why do you think I'm here, anyway?

It seems like I've waited so long … so long. Each day, I watch you from the darkness of my apartment. I even painted my living room black so you couldn't make me out when my lights were off. Sometimes I pull out my telescope. Other times, my binoculars give me a better view of you. But, that's only when I watch you from afar.

Am I so boring that you never see me? I'm always following you, but you never even know I'm there. At first, this made me mad. I'd ask myself, “Why don't you notice me? Am I not good enough for you?”

Then, I decided to use it to my advantage. Like, following you around in the grocery store. God, I love rolling my cart past you and smelling of the scent of your perfume. And once, you even turned away from the meat counter and bumped into me. I gave you a quick “Excuse me” and you gave me a head nod without even a smile or a single word. It hurt me that you didn't feel I was worth saying anything to, but I got over it. All, it took, was seeing you bend over the side of your grocery cart at the checkout and I nearly climaxed.

Struggling, as you do, to get those tight jeans on, is really worth the look they give your ass.

Too bad your boyfriend doesn't appreciate what you have to offer. Yeah, I saw the fight you two had earlier tonight. He hit you a couple of times, didn't he? Then he left you on the floor, crying and in pain.

I took care of the bastard for you. He went out into the alley to smoke as he has before. Of course, that's when he gets on the phone and calls someone that always makes him smile and grab his junk. I'm guessing it's another woman.

So, I simply walked up behind him and stabbed him in the back.  The knife barely scraped bone.  It was perfect!  

You should have seen the look in his eyes as he turned around, dropped the phone, fell to his knees, and tried to reach the knife with his hands. He couldn't do it, though. I'd made sure to stick it right in the middle so that he couldn't. Then, when he finally stopped thrashing around, I moved him off to the side, behind the garbage bin. He won't be noticed until the city picks up the trash.

I was going back to my apartment when I saw you. I'm guessing you just needed a walk … time to think a little. Maybe I do too. Maybe I just wanted to watch you twist your hips. Maybe I decided it's time for me to stop being invisible.

So, I followed you.

You really seem wrapped up in your thoughts. So much so that you don't even hear me coming up behind you. The closer I get I can hear you mumbling about how much you hate him. You seem angrier than I've ever seen you before. You deserve peace. You deserve to know what it feels like to have someone love you so much they'd do anything to stop your suffering. One that cherished you so much they'd even go the entire distance to send you into the afterlife, where the warmth of the sun doesn't seem like just a memory.

And then, I'll move on and find another.

Good, we're now on the bridge. A few more steps and we'll be directly in the center of the river.

Feel like a final swim?

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Please leave comments and let me know what you think!

Ciao!