St. Valentine’s Day Massacre : Flash! Friday: Vol 3 – 10 | Flash! Friday

St. Valentine’s Day Massacre

Always the same.

I should’ve prepared. It’s not like they didn’t tell me. As soon as the turkey curry repeated on me, they were festooning the shops with the gaudy red, the hearts and the semi-naked cupids. Get ready, Clive, they shouted.

Yet, I waited.

Maybe I’m a visionary. A modern-day James Dean, fighting the unfair commerciality of love. Only more chunky. Only more unconventionally handsome. A rebel without a Paws.

Paws. Oh, how she mocks me. Her cutesy kitten fluff-body, wrapped in oh-too-big eyes that look like an all-night nineties raver on one too many E’s and caffeine tabs.

The purrfect Valentine’s gift. So the adverts say. She wants one. I don’t know why. But what chance have I? I should’ve basked in the warmth of the e-store and their smiley-box deliveries.

And now, a gladiator of the malls, a stalker of the aisles. In the annual St. Valentine’s Day massacre, my only weapons are my phone and my don’t **** with me eyes. But, it’s too late.

Maybe, I’ll just get her nothing. My love for her should be enough.


I’ll express my love in the form of word. For I was once a childhood poet. A Haiku. In one of those rainbow cards.


via Flash! Friday: Vol 3 – 10 | Flash! Friday.


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