In this week’s flash fiction challenge, Chuck Wendig told us to choose five words from a list and incorporate them into a story. I chose the words foxglove, whalebone, topaz, acid and orphan. And I had a surprising amount of fun writing this piece!
Hope you enjoy it, and thanks for stopping by!
“Foxglove!” shouted a customer, clicking his fingers aggressively. The yellow light of the gas burners accentuated the nicotine stains on his fingernails.
Craela gave Bartholomew a smirk, knowing how much being called that would irritate him but he ignored her. He straightened his maroon waistcoat over his russet fur, pulled his white gloves a little further down his paws, and with all the dignity he could muster, walked across the pub to the man calling him. The beer swollen floorboards whined in protest under his small weight.
“I’m Bartholomew sir, how can I be of assistance?” he asked with a slight bow.
“Don’t give me airs Foxglove, if I wanted airs, I wouldn’t be in this shithole.”
“I’ve already told you my name. I don’t answer to Foxglove,” replied Bartholomew, turning away stiffly.