Flash Fiction by Phil Temples
When they came across a grassy spot adjacent to a large oak tree, Ray and Elma paused in their romantic hike through the woods. Elma removed a blanket from Ray’s backpack and spread it carefully down on the ground. She smiled at him playfully and started to undo the buttons on her blouse.
Ray told her to wait for a moment. He pulled out his trusty pocketknife and walked over to the oak with the intention of carving into the tree bark a traditional heart shape and their initials.
“Stop!”
Ray looked around, bewildered. Neither he nor Elma saw anyone in the immediate vicinity.
“You can fornicate in front of me if you’d like,” said the tree. “But if you carve a heart into my hide, so help me, Gods, I’ll end both of you here and now. Capeesh?”
Phil Temples resides in Watertown, Massachusetts. He’s published five mystery-thriller novels, a novella, and four story anthologies in addition to over 220 online short stories online. Phil also likes to dabble in mobile photography. He is a member of GrubStreet and the Bagel Bards.
