Ficlets

Coiled Ready To Strike

Jameson unloaded his heart as Old Bess filled two shot glasses with Patron Silver. As she poured the shots, the snake tattoo on her arm wiggled and coiled ready to strike – as if full of life, full of wisdom, full of healing. He labored to make sense of his life as she stared at him with those almost omniscient eyes of hers.

After a great deal of thought, Old Bess finally said, “I thought something wasn’t quite right about that little scamp. Tell me again about the photographs.”

“She had all these suggestive pictures of me and my lab partner, who is a great girl, but isn’t my type at all. I can’t believe she’s spying on me. She’d have to be blind to think I have eyes for anyone but her.”

“Jealousy can’t see 20/20, hon,” Old Bess explained in her raspy voice. ” Well, you can look at it one of two ways, dear. Either this girl is one cruel, scheming pussycat – like that friend of hers – out to ruin your life. Or the girl you thought would never go for you likes you so much it’s driving her absolutely batty.”

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