She smiles coyly,
I can’t resist even seeing the glint in her eye.
She opens the bag wider and pulls out thick slabs of corn cake and a jar of strawberry jam.
She spreads a layer of jam on the cake then holds it up for me to take a bite.
Her face is so close to mine, I think she will lick the crumbs from my lips.
“Chloe,” I say. “I don’t think we…”
“Shhh, have another bite.”
Instead I breath in crumbs, cough, sending cake flying.
“No!” Chloe cries.
My eyes grow heavy and I know her objective.
Will the shenanigans ever end with Chloe? What has she done this time? Find out in next week’s post to StormWeaver, a continuing story told in 100 word increments. Have a great day and watch out for smiling cats and women with bags of tricks! Neither can be trusted. Best, Clare.