Battle Scars and Swear Words – Kaz Clark
1200 words Women’s Fiction
War brought me the city boy Frankie Fin. For him war brought something else, and I found out about that something else by accident.
Oh I remember the war. I remember double summertime and yanks camping everywhere, and I especially remember Frankie Fin. A woman in tweed delivered him early on a mild morning in May. She said, “He’s the last of them, Mr. Martin, can you take him?” My father gave him an up and downer and said, “Well, I’ve seen more meat on a Butcher’s pencil.” That’s when I too took a good long look at the evacuee from Portsmouth. Picture this, if you will. Skinny kid, scabby knees, bruised peepers.
Ignite the Passion – Kaz Clark
1000 words Women’s Fiction
All I want is a taste of passion. It’s not much for a flower child to ask for, is it?
All I want is a taste of passion. Just a snifter would satisfy me before settling down into middle age. I want to remember tousled bed sheets and nights without worries, nights that were nothing short of a love fest. I suppose this problem about the lack of lust in my life began when Fleur moved in with her long-term boyfriend. Fleur is my daughter.
Working Girls – Kaz Clark
1800 words Women’s Fiction
Eloise Jones always thought herself a cut above the rest. But I know different. She’s nothing but a high priced hooker.
Eloise Jones is a tart. I can hardly believe it. Who’d have thought that skinny girl from Low Park Comprehensive would end up a lady of the night. I expect you’re wondering how I know this, so I’ll tell you. The Palace Hotel is my patch. Not much gets past me. Give credit where it’s due though, she’s not your average tart, Lord no. Miss Jones always considered herself a cut above the rest, even gets dropped off in a Jag. She’s one of those high priced hookers, call themselves escorts. Well, as far as I’m concerned you can call it what you will, still same thing different hat, isn’t it.