Ten Heartbeats
Today’s challenge was to use the word mystique in a story of exactly 100 words.
I watched her saunter across the boulevard, hips swaying, long auburn tendrils curling down to her waist. Se pavener!
My heart skipped a beat, two beats.
I imagine wrapping one of my pianist’s hands around her tiny waist and touching index to thumb.
Her calves — magnifique, belonging in the Louvre! Long and sculpted, her efforts paying off.
Three beats. Four.
She carried a crimson Louis Vuitton bag and wore matching stilettos.
Five beats. Six.
The pièce de résistance? Her derrière.
Seven beats. Eight.
Mystique — thrilling, blinding.
Nine beats.
Her Hermès scarf was wrapped casually about her neck.
Tightening.
Ten bea…
The only mystique is how Sтepн Tнoмpѕoɴ crafted such an incredible story. Brilliant!!