This is a short story (under 200 words) I wrote for a micro story contest… The theme was “clean” and I wanted to take it to an unusual place… I’m fond of this one, although it is kind of hard for me to re-read. I don’t usually write in this style.
You will want to be clean. Oh, when I have finished what I came here to do you’ll want to be so clean. From the first word I speak I can see your skin raise in anticipation and desire. My outstretched palm awaits the keys you hold tight by your side. I could have gotten them tomorrow, but I wanted this. This moment. For you to expect, to become smitten with the idea of it all. To wrap yourself in the idea that I would kiss you, press you against the wall. It would dissolve into the breathless, toe-curling sex you never got from you-know-who. We were having sex right now, I could see you picturing it. When you dropped the keys in my hand, I made sure to graze your fingertips with mine. Shudder. Recoil from my red hot touch, then realize, as I walk out the door, I was only here for my keys. You wanted so much more. Now all you want is to feel clean, but even that is too much to ask. Because you can wash away sex, but you can’t wash away what is still happening in your mind. You can’t cleanse yourself of me.