Flash Fiction Friday!
Quickie Writing Muscle Workout!
This week: Duo/Historical
OCT16-20
Gaspard pushed the secret door.
Closed.
Had Basile not come to his chambers yet? Gaspard was sure he was pushing the right door in a corridor made for trysts and murder in a castle full of secrets. He moved the candelabra higher. Yes. The low relief of an octopus stared at him blankly from beside the door.
A muffled chuckle sounded behind the fake wall.
It had been a long night dealing with the King’s Envoy and other guests, patiently waiting for the moment when they could be alone: engaging in horizontal (and why not, also vertical) activities. Gaspard took a deep breath and rapped on the door in their concerted code.
The door swung open, the chamber dark, but as Gaspard entered— the candelabra’s light showed him the exact right thing to make his annoyance go back to the murder corridor forgotten: Basile wearing nothing but powdered wig, long stockings, satin buckle shoes, and a massive (already dripping) erection.
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