The red silk dress clung to her curves. From the hip down it hung straight to the floor. That was important. Red was not her colour. If she could choose; mauve or rose. Soft and undemanding of attention. All eyes would be on her in this shade. She sighed. She’d make it work.
At the Valentina, a doorman ushered her into a sparkling ballroom of roaming tuxedos, dresses and champagne flutes. A small handgun holstered on her thigh urged her to the mission. But she’d take it slow. Find the target. Eliminate him quietly. Report to Agent X.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by the super amazing Rochelle. Leader of our FF pack! The challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less. Try it! It’s fun.
Read more flash fiction here. Or click the frog.