This was written in response to the Yahoo Fantasy Writer's group's "Little Black Book" challenge posed for the week of August 12th.
Sylvia's Little Black Book
Sylvia blew out the match and grinned. The lights were off, the room quiet. Shadows danced along the walls’ faces. She loved candlelight, the tricks it played and the mood it set. Innocuous objects cast the most threatening silhouettes.
Objects like Randy, the overstuffed bear Jake gave her. All man, Jake was, shooting little targets with roped down pellet guns at carnivals. Sylvia’s lip rose in a sneer. The education-challenged brute sure knew how to show a woman a good time. He couldn’t tell a fake swoon from a fake--“Crap!”
Brian calling. Again. She took a deep breath and turned off her cell. The hint of a grin replaced her sneer. Brian won’t be a problem much longer. She’d already read his name. Yesterday. And not on her cell. She’d read it in her little black book. Soon there’d be no more Brian like there was no more Jake. God, that book sure came in handy.
Note: This is posted as originally written. I'm up for comments on it. Then I can compare them with the ones I received from the group.