Ficlets

Boys, Gotta Love 'Em

He stuttered like a babbling idiot at my attempt at asking him out. All I wanted was a simple yes or a no. Instead, he just spurted incoherent sentences out in some other language, or no known language at all. I couldn’t decide whether to walk away or just stand there and listen to his nonsense. But just as I was coming to a decision, my hand flew up, with no urging of my own, and slapped him. A nice red handprint stuck out on his face as proof of what happened.

The shock of the impact must have snapped his brain back into place, because almost immediately he spoke perfect english again. And then I regretted the involuntary action of my hand, as my hopes were dashed as soon as his new-found english words reached my ears…

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