His Bitch

His Bitch

Manhattan by Stefan Lundberg on Google Maps

Robert stood back, his job for this morning done, and watched as a doorman materialised to hold open the door. Anxious now … Tessa was new to the business, would she stumble? Embarrassed, would she look to him?

Come on, my girl, you can do it. Stop there, you’ve hit the mark.

Part in, part out of the canopy’s shade, the low sun showed her black locks to perfection. He’d been up since dawn, washing, oiling, grooming that hair.

But look at her. Isn’t she something!

She posed for the cameras. Nothing forced, no pulled-in belly, no pushed-out chest; not like those Hollywood bitches. She pulled her head up, a sleek line from her black nose through her throat to her chest.

Robert smiled to himself. She was his bitch. Contessa, the new Lassie. And though movies were a bitch of a business, together they’d nail it.


Written for What Pegman Saw.

Wordcount 147

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About crimsonprose

Spinner of Asaric and Mythic tales
This entry was posted in Shorts and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

21 Responses to His Bitch

  1. Lynn Love says:

    How perfectly you matched your story to the image, Crispina! A clever twist in our expectations there

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ah, I was hoping this was literal. Too often that word has been co-opted with bad intent. Nice work.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Dale says:

    I loved this, Crispina! Brilliantly done, and like Josh, I was happy to see it was literally a bitch 😉

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Violet Lentz says:

    You had me fooled right up until the black nose!! Very clever and an excellent take on the prompt.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Joy Pixley says:

    I like how the hints are all there, so the reveal at the end feels natural. And a great take on the image you found, too: a funny reminder that human actors aren’t the only ones who have to deal with the paparazzi!

    Liked by 1 person

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