This past week I’ve spent lots of time getting back on track with my exercising, so of course the idea spilled into this week’s flash fiction. This week’s phrase flash fiction is, Exercise, Exercise, Exercise.
Hope you guy enjoy this week’s scene. Have a great week and remember:
Let your imagination soar when your read.
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What is wrong with my body? All I did for the last two weeks is hit the gym and there’s been no results whatsoever. I’ve put my body through hell to make myself look perfect for the upcoming pageant and it’s all been for nothing.
I slung the light purple evening gown to the side and threw my head back, screaming loud enough the window rattled. Stupid on my part, because it brought every one of my brothers running through the door in fight mode.
“Sis, what the . . .”
“What is wrong with you? You know . . .”
“Where is the damn fire?”
“Sorry, guys.” I glanced their way, taking note of how each one wore a tiny smile as they took in the disastourous room. How could they not be amused, my floor was littelred with discarded gowns and skimpy bathing suits. It looked like a fashion hurricane invade my room. Still, the little tilt of their lips had my anger spiking. “What the hell are you smirking at?”
“Nothing.” All three said in unison.
“What was that . . .” Of course my father showed up two wolf shakes later, like usually. The man would be late to his own death. “What happened to your room?”
His commanding tone sent me over the anger edge I’d been teetering on for the last hour. My hands flew to my hips and all three of my brothers took a large step to the left, placing their backs against the wall. They knew very well what my pose meant and they wanted no part of being in front of me when I blew up.
“What is wrong with my room? That’s what you ask me? As if you don’t know. It’s your damn fault my room is this way. You are the asswipe that signed me up for the werewolf Mrs. American Pageant. I’m not beauty queen. Never will be. Never wanted to be. You did this just so more men would see me and come asking for my hand in mating and I got news for you daddy wolf dearest, I’m not some prize. I’m the daughter of the eldest living Alpha and I have more strength than any she-wolf alive and I will choose who and when I mate. Not you. Not some oaf who thinks he knows best for me. We clear?”
Okay, the last part might have been wrong of me to say. My father was linnet with me on most things, but he drew the line at disrespect and I’d just give him a triple dose of it. Yelling in his face. Telling him what I would do and wouldn’t do. Worst was me blaming him for the state of my room.