Guh. Never had an idea come to me so completely and succinctly before. I blame recent conversations with my friends for this.

Luke stood naked in front of the floor length mirror. The condom, partially filled, hung like a snake’s skin from his shrinking penis. He tugged it off, flecks of cum and spermicide splattering reflection of his thighs in the mirror.

He sighed and continued down the hall to the bathroom. The floor was pink and white tile. The soaps scented and in a scalloped bowl. The toilet seat and tank covered in pink shag that matched the hue of the tile. On the counter a framed picture of several kittens looked up at him.

Luke died a little more.

Shannon was a good woman. They had gone to high school together, been in the same youth group. She had looked lovely in her wedding dress, her long chestnut hair cascading down her shoulders. That night was their first night together, they had waited for each other.

It was as awkward. Luke told himself it would get better. But she never looked at him, never pressed back, never sought out his touch. It hadn’t gotten better, not in all those years.

The next morning, the blood in the bed made Shannon think that her period had come early. It wasn’t hers.

Word was “kittens” from Peter Owen.
Written 3/10/09, approx 12:50pm.

If you want to offer a story idea, the original thread is here.