Ficlets

Choir Loft, pt 2

He tried to stroke her cheek, but she turned her head quickly to take a snap at his finger. “Geez! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Trying to bite that finger off, that’s what! Don’t you dare touch me or I will bite you! You hear me!” she shouted, her ellusive southern drawl slightly emerging.
Carter looked a tad nervous. “You know we’re in a church, right? Y’know, you should be quiet in a sacred place…”
“We could be in God’s waiting room for all I care!” she cried at the top of her lungs. Carter suddenly got a serious persona. He leaned in very close to her face; she turned away.
“I want to make myself clear: you know something I need to know. I don’t want to hurt you to get that information…”
“Don’t lie, you snake,” she hissed. “You know you’d strangle me like the constrictor you are.”
He glared at her. “I won’t stand to talked to like that.”
“Really? I thought that’s what they would call you where you come from.”
Surprised, he asked, “Where would that be?”
“Why, Hell, of course.”

View this story's 1 comments.