I'd made a promise as her heels clipped away into rain dazzle; hunched against the weather, alert for the gutter-wave and a man flush with dollars, testosterone rising like scum in a stockpot. I wanted to peel sticky black lashes from her pale lids; expose the freckles that dusted her cheekbones. Wrap her in a white hotel towel. The cigarette butt was damp. It was hers, pressed with lipstick – Hot Ginger Spice – but the ash was cold and I was leaving in an hour. How in hell’s name would I find her in a city I hardly knew?
About the Creator
Stephanie Ginger
Writer, screenwriter, poet, playwright, journalist. I love the drama of life: long, short, on the page or on the screen but always character-driven.
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Shopkeeping Genie
In the bustling marketplace of Zahrah, nestled amongst stalls overflowing with silks and spices, resided Hakim, an unassuming shopkeeper with a secret. His shop, The Curious Caravan, wasn't just a place to find trinkets from faraway lands. Hakim was a Shopkeeping Genie, a being bound to the mortal realm through an ancient pact, granting wishes through the careful exchange of objects.
By Moharif Yulianto5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
"Testosterone rising like scum in a stockpot." That is an amazing line.