This is a story for Sunday Photo Fiction, https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/, which invites stories of about 200 words, inspired by a photo prompt. After some editing I managed to hit the target exactly, but would have liked a few more words so that I could have made a smoother job of not showing the genders of the two participants. I’m not sure why I’ve tried to do that – drink helps most of us do things we later wish we hadn’t, whatever our gender or sexual orientation.
This week’s photo is shown below:
Fighting a hangover, Charlie struggled to remember the night before. A few drinks, then into town for more. A gig, more drinks. After that Charlie had seen the most beautiful face ever.
Then a cab ride, with the face. Charlie looked up to see a magnificent golden lion beside an ivory door. The door opened. They stumbled inside.
Charlie thought there had been sex. Perhaps it was mind-blowing. Perhaps the face was unbelievably gorgeous. Whatever, Charlie had to ensure their miraculous encounter was more than a one-night stand.
A call to Charlie’s usual cab firm confirmed the area where the star-crossed lovers had communed. Thirty minutes of desperate running later, Charlie paused for breath and scanned the street, catching sight of a house that looked unremarkable except for an overgrown hedge. This stirred a hazy memory. From closer to, this couldn’t be the house, could it? Even with its impressive moustache, the mangy cat was no match for a regal lion. And that door was clearly plastic.
Charlie peered through the letter-box. The tired carpet, grimy walls and discarded shoes rang no bells, but the underwear dangling from the banister was definitely Charlie’s.
Charlie ran, swearing never to drink again.