Flash Fiction--The Man of My Dreams

LYRIC O' THE DAY:

I remember searching for the perfect words

I was hoping you might change your mind

--Riding on the Metro, Berlin

Excitement abounds!!  Today marks the first challenge in Rachael Harrie's Platform Building Campaign.  The rules were to do a piece of flash fiction, exactly 200 words, starting with the prompt "the door swung open" and ending with "the door swung shut" if possible.  Having never written flash fiction before, this was great fun, and a hell of a lot harder than I thought it would be.  It seems I'm a wordy girl.  Anyway, here goes nothing:

The Man of My Dreams:

        The door swung open, expelling a stench so foul it made my stomach twist.

He filled the entire door frame.  Six feet of lean muscle, posture too elegant for a man of his profession.  Dark hair curled damp against his collar as he shook his head in disgust.

He thrust a cold metal object in my palm.  Sparks danced up my arm.

I held my breath, not from the smell, but to force my heart to slow its wild pace.  His eyes glowed an ethereal green as he watched me, waiting to finish the deal.

I owed payment for my follies.

We stood face to face in the foyer as he glanced at the tchotchkes lining the walls, but trinkets didn’t interest him.

“You better dunk that in bleach,” he growled in a sultry southern drawl I had come to crave.

I looked at the prize in my hand.  Diesel the Tank Engine grinned up at me, mocking my obsession.

He opened the front door, grasping the handle with his talented fingers.  A wry smile turned his lips.  “Please keep your son away from the toilet, ma’am.  Then I won’t have to keep coming back.”

And the door swung shut.