tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6642076166796902853.post2443242394634331621..comments2024-02-05T01:49:05.302-05:00Comments on Creative Bloomings' Flashy Fiction Friday: Sunday FundayWalt Wojtanikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02723314300320671675noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6642076166796902853.post-14267701332782039592010-01-13T21:16:19.381-05:002010-01-13T21:16:19.381-05:00Honesty really is the best policy.Honesty really is the best policy.Wendy Sparrowhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06240583852940769313noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6642076166796902853.post-63775546296669821592010-01-11T09:33:15.375-05:002010-01-11T09:33:15.375-05:00I pull off the ribbon first, and then the wrapping...I pull off the ribbon first, and then the wrapping.<br /><br />"Do you like it?" she asks.<br /><br />"No."<br /><br />She whips a handgun out of her robe, points it casually between my eyes and asks again, “Do you like it?”<br /><br />“I’m not going to lie. No. I hate it.”<br /><br />Her weapon is a revolver. She pulls the hammer back. I watch the cylinder rotate. “And what you mean,” she prompted, “is that you don’t like it – you love it. Right?”<br /><br />“What I mean,” I insist, “is that I don’t like it. I hate it.”<br /><br />She presses the gun into my forehead. It’s cold. Heavy. “You’re changing your mind, right?”<br /><br />“No.”<br /><br />She screws the barrel back and forth, the friction marking my forehead. “Last chance to appreciate my present.”<br /><br />I sigh and plunge my switchblade between her breasts before she has a chance to react. “You know how I feel about lying, hon.”C. N. Nevetshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00375714948653196993noreply@blogger.com