Marooned with her fantasies

A ‘Drabble’

Image credit: Nan Goldin’s “The Ballad of Sexual Dependency”

She stared at her wiry miner as he sat smoking silently at the edge of the bed and admired his back muscles. This image would replay itself in her dreams for weeks until next time.

God, she loved him. Despite George’s irregular trips home, Marge never griped, more than willing to live marooned with her fantasies in Anchorage, waiting to see him again.

Studying his clean shaven face, she smiled.

Her favorite moments were always those when she carefully shaved his beard off with a straight razor, rubbed the aftershave gently onto his skin, cupped his face, and kissed him.

This piece of flash fiction was written in response to:

34 thoughts on “Marooned with her fantasies”

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