This post is part of the Writer Wednesday Blog Hop, a weekly meme designed to inspire creativity and encourage sharing of stories.
This week the challenge is to write a flash fiction piece in up to 500 words using two pictures, incorporating them somewhere in the story. One thing I love about this blog hop is the variety of stories that come out of the exact same prompts. Creativity truly is unique.
My story this week:
‘We need to get that painting back,’ said Steph, pacing up and down. It only took a few strides to get from one side of the office to the other, but she still felt the need to cover every inch.
‘We will,’ said Marina, ‘we will. We just need to stay calm and follow up with the plan.’
‘I knew getting that Justin on board was a mistake, I should have followed my instincts.’ She paused long enough to give the bin a swift kick, and then went back to her pacing.
‘Relax, he doesn’t know what he’s got does he? He wouldn’t know what to do with it even if he did.’
‘Yes, but what if he figures out how to read it? What if … ‘
‘How is he going to do that, Steph? He has know idea who we are, where we’re from.’ Marina leaned back in her chair, absent-mindedly picking at the scales underneath her sleeve.
‘All it takes is for the wrong person to recognise it,’ said Steph, leaning against the window frame now, taking a break from all of her pacing. ‘Look at them down there, they have no idea what’s going on in their own cities, in their own back gardens.’
‘You cannot reveal yourself, Steph,’ Marina rose to her feet, ‘they must not know that we are here.’
Steph sighed heavily. ‘I know that,’ she said quietly, ‘but still .. ‘
‘No!’ Marina was beside her then, intense eyes burning into her. ‘Promise me you can stay strong on this, we can’t afford any more slip-ups.’
Steph held her gaze for as long as she could. ‘OK,’ she said, finally, ‘I’ll be OK.’
‘You better,’ said Marina, and she turned and went back to her seat. She didn’t like disciplining her team but if she had to, then she would. She wasn’t going to let the whole operation become compromised because of one individuals crisis of conscience.
‘How is your body holding up?’ asked Steph, her back to the window now.
‘It itches,’ said Marina, her fingers dancing over her scales again. ‘These organisms are not entirely suited to our needs, but they’ll have to do.’
Steph knew exactly what she meant, longing to revert back to her own natural form so she could properly relax. She did not enjoy having to masquerade in something that felt like it was three sizes too small for her.
She glanced again over at their intended disguises for the next part of the operation. She had no idea just how she was going to hide her impressive tail under such a small looking dress …
Word count: 438