By Bud Koenemund
A 100 Word Story
Last night, I
dreamt about you. Nothing momentous, or erotic; just an ordinary scene that
faded quickly when I woke to the sadness of your absence, and the knowledge
that I can’t even send you a “Good morning, Beautiful” text to enjoy the smile
that – once upon a time – would have spread across your face when you realized
I’m thinking about you. And, often, you’d send back a “blushing emoji,” because
you don’t believe you’re beautiful. But, I’d say it every day – because it’s
true – and I had hoped to make you understand it.
That’s what I miss the most.
26 June 2021
What I Miss
02 June 2021
Control
By Bud Koenemund
A 100 Word Story
“I’m in control
this time,” she cooed, pushing him into a chair.
Her hands, clad
in elbow-length, black satin opera gloves, slid off his shoulders as she knelt
between his legs.
“Are you?” he countered.
“Mmmm, hmmm,” she
murmured.
He reached out to
touch her, but she swatted his hand.
“Be good, or I’ll
stop,” she ordered.
“You know what
happens when you tease me,” he warned.
She dragged her fingers across his
stomach, and clawed his inner thighs. He let out a low growl. She knew she didn’t
have long before he’d take over… just as she wanted.