The Tall Brunette

This week’s challenge is to write between 33 and 333 words, including the word ‘brand’, using the definition ‘a mark made by burning with a hot iron to designate ownership’.

There are men all over this city who share a secret. You wouldn’t know it on first looking at them, and they sure as hell would never speak of it.

Some of them are bankers, some waiters, some fathers, and some of the worst ones even have wives.

You’ll find them in cinemas, coffee shops, casinos, courts, chemistry labs. And they’ve all been through something terrible.

I know them all. In fact, I’ve dated them all. Most just once, but some seemed to find the pain ‘fun’, and came back for more.

All the men had a penchant for tall brunettes and a flash of cleavage. They all had very different ideas of what made a good first date. I’ve been to endless cocktail bars, and ‘hip new restaurants’, and seen so many independent films.

Some of them were more imaginative, taking me to an aquarium, or wine tasting, or even rock climbing.

They all have one thing in common though. They all wanted to sleep with me on the first date. I’d let them come up to my flat, and they never speak of what happened next.

But there are dozens of men all over this city and beyond, all with a brand. My brand. A small x-shaped burn scar just below their right ear.

Sometimes these men spot another of my victims, in a queue, or passing in the street. They share a nod as any light left in their eyes dies away at the memory of what happened at the hands of the tall brunette.

Hopefully they’ll have learnt now. And maybe next time they’ll go for a blonde instead.


8 thoughts on “The Tall Brunette

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