Flash Fiction: Valuable Vista – part 1?

I had intended to post a flash fiction piece on my blog, but I find limits difficult: I’ve been known to end up with a novel after I started out writing a short story. As a comprise, I’ll be posting a short story in instalments, with each one standing alone.

What follows is part one of Valuable Vista…


Like most people, she aspired to bigger and better—a large family home and possibly a pied à terre in the country—but in the meantime, Gail lived in a tiny flat.    

While it had it disadvantages, there were also some benefits to living in a box in close proximity to others. Gail liked her little flat, a cosy sanctuary from the world, which had everything she could need. It also offered things she didn’t need, but wanted all the same.

Gail was sure that many would be put out by the bedroom’s lack of view, but she took pleasure from it.

The brickwork of the near identical box across the alleyway could almost be touched if she leaned out of the window far enough. The window of the neighbouring building was almost opposite hers—perfect for the voyeur in her.

Not only did she not know his name, she didn’t know his story, but watching him was one of her favourite pastimes, guaranteed to satisfy her.

At first, she would conceal herself to get her fix, flattened against the wall next to the curtained window to peek through. However, after many months of going unnoticed while watching him, Gail had become emboldened.

Sitting on her bed, directly in front of the window, was her favourite place from which to see the sights. In the darkness of her room, she saw his lack of window covering as an invitation.  

From the look of his physique, toned and tanned, she speculated on his job, his athletic ability and his sexual prowess.

The sight of him pulling his T-shirt over his head was guaranteed to make her hold her breath, no matter how many times she saw it. Moving around as he disrobed, he tantalised her by momentarily disappearing from her eye line. Sometimes he returned to her view wearing less, other times in the same state—always comfortable in front of the window. From his mannerisms, she wondered whether he knew she was there. Watching him raking his fingers back through his hair, revealing his boy-band looks, her vulva pulsed with a deep clench.

It was possible that a furtive glance confirmed she was there—giving him the knowledge to know when to put on a show.


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