Often my pieces of short fiction surprise me… I have no idea where the ideas come from. Over the next few days, I am going to post installments of a story that I recently wrote.
DOT . COM
Before her debut in this new city, Molly had sweated as hard as a runner preparing for a marathon. She dieted and abstained from salt so that her belly felt tight, and her butt tucked. Her hair had been colored and cut at a top salon. She bought new clothes – not too racy but certainly not prim. Her manicured fingernails sported scarlet polish, and after the pedicure she asked for the same shade on her toenails.
It had been worth the expense and every effort endured. She faced the full length mirror and turned around so she could see herself from various angles. Molly knew she was hot.
As a final measure, she opted to have a studio portrait taken. When she told the photographer why she needed the picture, he suggested that she undo the two top buttons of her loosely woven dark sweater. She complied … after all he was a professional and knew about such things.
She felt ready. She provided all the information that the online profile sheet requested. She uploaded her photograph, paid the fee with her Mastercard… and pressed SUBMIT.
Two days later, she felt a rush when she saw her image and info prominently displayed on the site. Twenty minutes after that, the emails began arriving.
She pored over each one, studied the profiles and tried to glean a sense of the personality type. She decided that Letter Number 4’s sender was likely the type of man she was hunting for. Should she respond? Or should she see who else might write to her over the next few days. She didn’t want to waste time pursuing false leads.
The eleventh reply made her heart race… She stretched out on the chaise lounge so the sun could warm her whole body. Yes she’d definitely contact this one.
“The Internet is a marvelous tool,” Molly mused. “Imagine… ‘Marry-Me-Dot-Com’ has not only facilitated my next marriage, but also my next murder.”
To be continued…