“You’re not my type… push off.”
He trailed after her, undeterred.
“I don’t know why I’ve got this reputation, I’m an OK kind of guy. I commit to people.”
“I heard you’d shag road-kill if it were still warm,” she snapped.
He spread his palms in mock indignation. “It was just one sheep… for Pete’s sake.”
He grinned; she didn’t.
Undaunted, he wagged his finger at her. “And you mean was warm.”
Her expression was positively glacial.
“Subjunctive not your strong point then?”
He stared blankly, something stirring deep in his memory. “Oh yeah, right, sorry.” He hung his head. “I left school when my parents died, to look after the other kids…”
She bit her lip, looking guilty.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… well, maybe one drink then…”
Just a matter of finding the right bait, he thought, admiring her ass on the way back to the bar.
What Pegman Saw is a google-based blog dedicated to the 150 word story – why not give it a try? Thanks to Karen Rawson for hosting this weekend get-together. This story is an embellishment of a four year old Friday Fictioneer story; the extra 50 words offered the opportunity to embrace one of my favourite grammatical issues. 😉