“Don’t ask how I know this, but more alien abductions are reported every year than shark attacks.”
“Do I sound sincere? Reassuring? Like an intelligent observer? Like Jill on the street?”
Prim looked closely at Snark’s body language. Without moving his sexy lips, would she know if he approved. Of her. Of her outfit. Of her words.
“Well?” Snark lifted himself off the exposed brickwork wall in her apartment. Crossed the hardwood floor, missing the tripping mat by a mere fraction of an inch.
She was memorized. The way he languidly slide along the floor, how his eyes, as he surveyed her, pierced her skin like tiny cactus quills. Each one tipped in elixir. Her mind was no longer occupied with propaganda.
The room began to swirl, gruggle, bubble, small fish swam before her eyes. She let floatation rise her, only small swishy motions needed to keep steady.
“Great,” Snark bubbled as he enveloped her. “That should get them back into the water in no time.”
Did this as a non-edited free write whilst the plumber was snaking our drain. Seemed appropriate. So did prose in replacement of my usual poetry.