Rose Strailos Flash Stories - 7. Prompt: 35, 42, 4

Breathing out the word as again I seem him, I blush and look down. I know I should not want, but I do. I want to touch and be touched. I want to feel a bed under me as he presses me down into it. My desires are so very bad and I would forfeit my life should others discover my perversion for I am a male, black and a slave to him and I want the one I call…Master.

Prompt: History
Number: 42

It’s mostly writtten by the winnders, those who had the power to come out on top. It’s never written by the losers. The chronicles of their pain, suffering and anguish lost in the tide of time.

Only now are we slowly rewriting it as discover and learn. As we discover their stories we are slowly rewriting that which was written by the winners. We are rewriting History with every fragment that we find. We fill in the pieces like a jigsaw and we feel pride in those lost moments finally coming to light.

Prompt: eyes
Number: 4

They stared at me, sad and rich with color. Drops of water escaped from them forever suspended as I stared back, etching the sight in memory. I could remember when they gazed at me lovingly, with a sweet smile on the lips below them. But now, they were forever darkening, fading as the life behind them left and died. They were so beautiful, even in death, they were so beautiful.