Hello, dear Readers! Is it really Friday already? This week has flown by! Time again for Friday Fictioneers, picking up Nick and Emmeline’s story where we left off last week with mysterious messages, someone named Constantine, and chatty receptionists.
Happy Friday, Readers! I’m back with another Friday Fictioneers story about Nick and Emmeline. If you are just joining us, you can catch up and start reading Nick and Emmeline’s story here.
As always, special thanks to Rochelle for providing us with our weekly prompt, and today we thank J. Hardy Carroll for the photo.
We Almost Lost It
It was sudden. Hearing her voice, seeing her smile…it was like the floor disappeared beneath him. Nick set the coffee down heavily on the nearest available surface and half stumbled over to her bedside.
Silently Emmeline held out her hand for him to take. Gently Nick brought it to his lips. “I thought…” his voice cracked. “I thought I might lose you,” he said. He bowed his head, his breathing ragged.
“But you didn’t,” Emmeline said softly, giving his hand a weak squeeze.
It’s Friday! It’s finally here! And that means it is once again time for Friday Fictioneers. Today’s photo prompt is provided by our very own Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, who is the leader of our merry band of writers.
Interested in reading some other Fictioneer entries? Check them out here.
Enjoy today’s story!
Death Wears Cheap Leather
If there were worse places to bleed to death, Lilah couldn’t think of any.
She lay on the dirty floor of an elevator, her hand pressed against the oozing bullet wound in her stomach.
I should have waited for backup, she thought dully. Black spots floated across her vision.
At least I took him with me. Lilah strained to see the body across from hers in the elevator. Sylvester Witherson wouldn’t be trafficking anymore women. She sighed and waited for the end.
When Death’s form finally appeared in the elevator, Lilah laughed. Death looked an awful lot like a prostitute.