Chicklit & Women's Fiction | Flash Fiction Prompts

Prompt 9 || Word Prompt

"Thank you. I'm completely muddled up today." His eyes were the warmest shade of brown and I honestly felt as though I could confide in him. It was the oddest of things, feeling such a strong connection to a complete stranger. He opened his mouth to respond but a nurse beat him to it.

"Miss Jeels, may I please talk to you for a moment?"

"Yes, of course." The nurse gently pulled me aside from the man and said, "It is very lovely that you have gotten to interact with the patients but please remain a little more careful. Dewy has just been welcomed into the institute because he has lost his last living family member, his daughter, and is in a little bit of shock. He is completely unaware of the happenings and although he may seem in the conscious moment, he is very likely to not be."

I was entirely taken aback by what the nurse had just claimed to be true until the evidence was in the clear when I looked back to where Dewy was standing to find him asking the other nurses where his coat and his daughter had gone.

"I apologise but I would like to request something if I could."

"Go ahead, Miss Jeels."

"I would like to be the designated nurse to Dewy."

***

WINNER 2: hawaiiian_punch

White, slick snow lay on the ground around the two bodies. A flurry of flakes descended onto the fabric of their clothes, fading away into the warmth of their beings. Papers scattered around slowly moving with the wind.

"I am so sorry," the man's deep voice groaned as he rubbed his arm. As he sat up, he held out his hand to help the woman up that was frazzled next to him.

"Are you alright?" she asked placing her hand in his. Her eyes looked to the spew of papers around her with children's handwriting on them. His eyes moved down to her hand in his, the dark-colored marks on her wrists and few scars.

"I'm fine, but are you alright?" he questioned keeping her hand in his as they both stood up. Instead of answering, she bent towards the ground and began picking up the papers.

"So you are either a teacher or you have a ton of children," she laughed, handing him what she picked up.

He let out a laugh pulling together the papers and neatly held them against his side.

"A teacher, no kids," he replied. He was aware she skipped his question.

"I'm Felicity, by the way," she told him while tucking her hair behind her ear.

The man watched her movements with a smile. He was curious about the marks on her wrist but did not want to push the issue. It was in the snowy northeast weather that he noticed the sparkle in her eyes.

"What a beautiful name. My name is Evan," he replied.

Felicity's cheeks turned a slight tint of pink, causing Evan to laugh. He judged by her looks she was probably around his age, early thirties.

"I was actually headed to grab a coffee and grade," Evan began, "Can I buy you a coffee?"

Felicity looked at the man in front of her, whom she by chance ran into while hurrying away from her house. She was not sure where she was headed, just anywhere to take her away from home.

She tucked her hands into her back jean pockets eyeing Evan. It was in this moment that she pushed the demon out of her head and listened to her heart.

"I would love to."

***

WINNER 3: SarahGeorge89

Meet-cutes are for movies. Destiny, fate, and serendipity live in the pages of novels. In real life, you meet men when they unapologetically ramrod into you, sending all your carefully curated paperwork to the floor, only to be drowned in that really expensive coffee you literally just paid for. I feel my eyes widen in shock and everything around me plays out in slow motion, including the part where my attacker waltzed off towards the elevators like he didn't just ruin my perfect morning.

Today, I was going to meet one of NYC's most eligible bachelors who was poised to become the star of the latest season of the hottest dating show on screen, Mr. Right. On paper, Leander Farraday is pompous and the farthest thing from being anyone's Mr. anything. That aside, all I had to do was make him seem like the best man for the show.

I rode the elevator to the tenth floor, sighing as I stride into my office and sitting opposite the man I assume is Farraday. Looking up at him as I was about to start the meeting, I falter.

"You're the one that barged into me, making me drop my stuff," I practically hissed. He shrugged. "You owe me coffee. Now, let's get down to business."

"Yes, let's," Farraday agrees, making me stall from shock. He reaches into his pocket and takes a folded piece of soggy paper out that I recognize as one of mine from the folder I dropped downstairs. "I wouldn't necessarily describe myself as 'a tool who looks like he'd love you and leave you like a cheap prostitute.' And I really wouldn't say that I can be 'summed up in one word: SUPERFICIAL A-HOLE.' Not to be pedantic but isn't that two words?"

Leaning back in the chair, I fold my arms across my chest, arching a perfectly waxed and tinted eyebrow at him. "Then make me change my mind, Farraday. I love nothing more than being proved wrong. Tell me, what makes you think that you are Mr. Right?""