Another delicious thrill ripped through Hannah as Carter pulled her close and kissed her again.  He smelled like spearmint.  She hadn’t felt a high like this in a long time.  Not since those first few dates with Michael, her husband.  Michael seemed so far away, so dead inside.  She needed to feel alive.

Carter opened the front door of his apartment and told her to make herself comfortable while he went to open a bottle of wine.  She complied, pulling off her uncomfortable shoes and padding barefoot into his small living room.

There it was.  A deer head, mounted on the wall.  Her stomach twisted and she suddenly felt incredibly nauseous. She abhorred hunting.  She was surprised to feel tears welling in her eyes.  She imagined a beautiful, defenseless creature, running gracefully through a forest, a life stolen just so she could end up a trophy on some guy’s wall.  She didn’t know Carter at all.  And she missed Michael.  Maybe there would even be a baby one day.  One that would survive.

Carter returned to the living room, holding two wineglasses, only to find her gone.

For Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner


19 thoughts on “Clarity

      1. My cousins are. They live in the country. My Uncle has always loved to hunt because both my Uncles and my Dad grew up hunting. When I see pictures with my eighteen year old cousins over a big buck I cringe. It’s not necessary to hunt in this day and age.

  1. Yeah, I’d have been out of there, too. I love how you add a ton of backstory with just this little line: “One that would survive.” Brilliant stuff!

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