UNDER CONSTRUCTION

The Duel - Day 5

Week 5

Lucky Dress

By Selena Jardine

(Flash Fiction - 284 words)

There's faith, hope, and then there's charity. The wealthy girls of Manhattan have sent their used prom dresses to the girls of Barlick Falls, Tennessee. The gym is a welter of gauze, crinoline, and taffeta, in pink, salmon, and midnight blue. The tables brought in from the cafeteria are covered with frothy creations. Three hundred girls are in the gym, in various stages of sunburn from their efforts to prepare for the dance, choosing their dresses from the disorganized piles. It is noisy and humid, and Teresa would like to go home.

She picks up a dress. Size 2. Nope. Another. Size 2. What is it with these Manhattanites?

Her eye catches on a long green dress with sequins on the top. She picks it up. Size 10. Must have been ostracized by her peers, she thinks dryly. Then she sees the note. It is written in teal ink on a Post-it stuck to the lining. "I got lucky in this dress!" reads the note, in loopy, unformed letters, hearts dotting the Is. "I hope you do too!!!"

Teresa closes her eyes, holding the dress to her chest. She thinks of Alan, thinks of his warm mouth on the side of her neck, the way it drives him insane when she lets him touch her through her bra but not under it. She thinks of the last time they danced together, and how she could feel his hard-on through his pants and her dress, and she remembers that she went into the bathroom and rested her forehead against the cool mirror until she stopped shaking.

She goes to the woman in charge, the physics teacher.

"I'll take this one," she says. "Wish me luck."

Missing the Mark

FlashFic by Alexis
297 Words

She traced the lines in the mahogany and watched the Christmas tree lights reflect off the polished surface of the bow. "I want to go shoot."

"You can't. There's two feet of snow, and you're not all that good. You won't be steady on your feet and you'll lose arrows."

"I won't. Come with me. We'll take the snowshoes and a Thermos. I'll make it worth your while."

"Honey, it's three degrees out. It's too cold to make it worth anything." Her shoulders sagged, telling him that it's terribly unfair to give a Christmas gift that can't be enjoyed for another four months. He mentally calculated the cost of new arrows against the worth of her smile. No contest. "But, if you're set on going out, I'll go with you."

There is it, that smile. Merry Christmas.

It wasn't three degrees, but it was cold. Cold enough to freeze the paper target to the tree. Cold enough to freeze their breath to a thin fog.

As she took her stance, legs spread, her arms shook from the cold and from the tension needed to pull against the recurve of the bow frame. Her eyes narrowed and focused on the orange dot at the center of the tree. Shoulders arching to steady her aim, her breasts accentuated by the fullness of the down fill in her jacket.

So, she's that good, is she?

He moved quietly behind her. She ignored him and steadied the notched arrow, holding it tightly between her gloved fingers as she drew back the taut bowstring. He slipped his hand around under her arm, closing his fingers around the padded swell of her breast. He squeezed gently.

The arrow flew far to the left and buried itself somewhere in the snow.

It didn't matter.

Round #6 in the week-long Flash Fiction duel between Selena Jardine and Alexis Siefert.