“Hey, that’s my machine!” Ursula had just run back up to her apartment for a minute and this ass took her underwear out of the washer?
“Geez, sorry.” At least he had the decency to look contrite. “Nobody was here and that machine was done. I’m in kind of a hurry. I leave in the a.m.”
“Oh, yeah, where you headed that’s so important?”
“U.S. Navy Base Charleston, ma’am,” he grinned. “Ensign Rick Jordan.”
“Ursula,” she said. He was cute, short hair, dimples. Definitely military.
“Hey, Ursula, you hungry? Can I buy you a burger?”
Head tilted, she smiled. “Okay, sailor.”
My theme this year is 100 word fiction. (So, no, don’t count this line!)