Flash Fiction Friday: Why so Moody?

I have a feeling that as a male writing about this particular subject, I’m opening myself up to a whole helluva lot of flak.  Soo…I’m preempting it by stating that this is a piece of fiction written based on how the whole thing can sometimes appear from a male’s perspective, not in any way an attempt to try and assume that I have any clue of what you all go through every month.  Even with that said…I’m prepared for every last piece of hate mail you feel the need to send.


“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he says as he brings a present around from behind his back.

It’s small.  That’s a good sign, right?  Eagerly, I rip open the wrapping paper to find a square black box, covered in velvet.  A necklace!

I slowly open the box to see a gorgeous gold chain, with a beautiful pendant.  I’m ecstatic, until I the glimmer of the diamond in the pendant stops blinding me and I see it for what it truly is.

“Really?” I say, feeling anger welling up in me, not really sure where it’s coming from, but I can’t seem to keep it back.

“What?  It’s a pink diamond.  Your favorite.”

“My favorite?” I yell.  “Since when have pink diamonds been my favorite.”

“Since always?” he asks uncertainly.  I feel him shrinking in front of me.

“I can’t even count how many times I’ve talked to you about how I think pink diamonds are the most absolutely gaudy of things ever created.  How could you have possibly thought that they were my favorite?”

“Jeez,” he says to me with his self-assured smile, “what got into you today?  Is it your time of the month or something?”

Before I am aware, my hand is already stinging with the pain of slapping him across the face.  I turn quickly and enter the bathroom, tears streaming down my face as the door slams behind me.

“How dare he?” I ask, looking into the mirror.  “How dare he try and pretend he has any idea of what I’m going through.”

“I know, right?” my reflection agrees.  “I mean, it’s like he thinks he’s so much cooler than you just because he knows when you’re menstruating or something.  Need to tap out?”

“Yeah, I think I do.  I just can’t take it today.  I could really use a few minutes to get myself together.”

“No problemo, sis.  Female solidarity, am I right?”


I close my eyes and reopen them, suddenly everything looks different, but the same.  I begin giggling.  I hear him on the other side of the door sighing in frustration.  Of course he would.  Damned fool thinks everything revolves around him or something.  I glance back into the mirror.

“Get yourself a little rest or something, alright?  I’ve got this.”

“Thanks again,” my reflection says, the weariness showing on her face.

“No problemo.  It’s been a while since I’ve gotten out and about anyways.”

I turn to the door, a smile spread across my face, and I open it to find him sitting on the other side of the hotel room, focused on his computer as though nothing had happened.

Sounds good to me.  I didn’t want to talk about any of that stuff anyways.

“I’m sorry,” he says half-heartedly.  Not even looking up from his screen to express his feelings.

I slink slowly toward him, feeling my body course with warmth at the sight of him, even though he doesn’t even think to look at me.  I don’t know why, but I love this feeling of a predator sneaking up on her prey.

I’m already on him, rubbing his back before he even notices I’ve neared.

“Hey,” he says in surprise.  “Wow.   Okay, so, all better now?”

“Oh yeah,” I say, trying to sound as sultry as possible, “way better.”

“Want to head out to dinner then?”

“We’ve got time, don’t we?”

“Time for what?” he asks.  Men can be so damned slow sometimes, can’t they?  “Oh,” he says, realization dawning on him.  “Look, I just want to let you know, I’m really sorry about the whole necklace thing.  I’ll return it first thing in the morning.  You can even come with me and–”

“Oh yeah, the necklace,” I say, picking up the box from the small table his computer sits on.  I take it out of the box and wrap it around my neck.  “Pink diamond.  My favorite.”


Yeah, I know…



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