Flash Fiction: The Hen and the Peacock

I love his wit. His ability to see through the sumptuous mendacity of the court.

If he’s the garish peacock strutting in jester’s garb, then I’m the dull hen in alchemist robes.

He makes me laugh; I make him think.

We need no arousing philter.

Only kisses.

 

 

Copyright © 2019 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

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