The Kiss Off

Last night, Bonnie flashed the ring Rasputin had stolen for her from the Tsar, flicked her hair, and hitched her skirt up at the old joe in the bar, but Clyde was too soused to give a dime.

Now the coppers are closing in and Bonnie’s bent and all nerves waiting in the market — thinking how ugly modern rags were, how she should’ve stuck with that hepcat from New Orleans, and how dumb it was to have a Chevy pickup as a time machine.

Somewhere hidden among the cloche hats, chiffons gowns and rayon dresses, under the Ivy League jackets, miniskirts, the parkas and zoot suits, buried somewhere between layers of leopard skin prints, ‘60s floral dresses and ‘80s pastel suits was the fabric of time, a tear was opening up and the sonofabitch was too busy having a mid-life crisis in some other moll’s bed; Bonnie lights a smoke and starts the engine — it was her turn to drive after all.

© 2017 Occasional Dreams
In response to: Three Line Tales, Week Fifty-Six
Image by: Clem Onojeghuo

Many thanks to Sonya for organising and coordinating these three line tales each week.


2 Replies to “The Kiss Off”

  1. i love her spunk and fashion sense! This was delightful David, so bold and adventurous to go down a time travel story. The clothes seem like they were ripped off the clothes lines she drove though history! I like to write time like that too – a fabric – recently I have been using the word sieve, like a muslin cloth sieve, its so dramatic I feel.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Gina. Time travel was the first thing I thought. I had fun playing with the voice and trawling through decades of fashion with this one.


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