A miner has a good time. (Flash Fiction) |
Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300. The prompts: This story must contain the words: nose, safe and claw Past Due Eddie could barely contain his excitement as her claw dragged menacingly down his chest. There was something about the feral women of Citron Seven that made it the favorite planet in the belt. She pricked him playfully; barely drawing blood. He knew he was safe. Still, the sense of danger was exhilarating. She seductively moved around the bed, allowing her tail to brush up the length of his left side. His groan told her he was hers to do with as she pleased. Still, she gave his ankle and wrist cuffs quick jerks that blended seamlessly with her dance. He’d always found a certain seduction in danger. Truth-be-told, all of the belt-miners felt that way. Danger was such a big part of their world that those not drawn to it, soon found employment elsewhere. The local watering holes were run by fallen miners; those who couldn’t long tolerate the stress of being a failed helmet seal away from decompression. The miner’s needed these places of ill-repute as much as they needed the miners. Everything could be had for a price. For those whose taste exceeded their ability to pay, there was always credit. Eddie had very expensive tastes indeed. “Are you comfortable?” she cooed. He lay with his eyes closed savoring her smell. She spoke with a voice as seductive as the rest of her. He nodded and whispered, “Yes my love…” Again came the claw; dragging up his chest, across his neck and then over his chin. Eddie savored it all. It continued over his mouth and then hooked itself the left nostril of his nose; continuing to pull until it became increasingly uncomfortable. “So Eddie, where’s the money you owe me,” came a threatening growl. His eyes opened to a situation vastly different from the one he’d imagined. Word count 300 |