Flash Fiction: What a Babe! by Karen Schauber

He stands up erect as she approaches the table. She is a vision of sea breeze and morning glory; her stride, a diaphanous runway walk. Subduing a rising blush, he slides out the upholstered chair and catches a tumble of soft brown curl as she folds into her seat. What a babe!

Conversation is easy, peppered with delightful laughs in all the right places. She twinkles, like faerie dust. He suppresses a boyish guffaw.

She’s studied in France, travelled throughout Spain, and works at an NGO. Candlelight washes over her porcelain skin—his scorecard is filled.

They study the menu. She gladly follows his lead. It’s Mongolian rice, scorched rabbit with beet chips, and warm pear with mint. Sipping wine, he fingers her wrist, playing lightly with her gold chain. She worms her way, lacing her fingers in his.

It was only a few days ago that they met online. Light chit chat and playful banter. And here, now, something is beginning.

The dishes arrive, steaming. They exchange ‘Bon Appetit’.

At first, he attributes the noises to simple enjoyment. She must find the meal tasty, to her liking, he tells himself. Her chewing, chomping, slurping, gurgling, is boorish, and loud. She seems unaware. He watches her hoover the medley into her mouth, wide like a midnight truckstop. Her mandible palpates in slo-mo, lips flapping, teeth gnashing, yeast staining the relationship. Transfixed, he dangles his fork mid-air like a Calder mobile.

For relief, he shifts his gaze to the mural baked into the back wall; a sumptuous but serene garden scene. The soulful deer and her fawn graze quietly among willowy pampas grass, the play of light on the water pool fresh, and alluring.

He turns back to the beauty, as she flicks her long chameleon-like tongue to retrieve a burgundy droplet spilling at the corner of her mouth. She throws the sticky lingual out and wraps it around a tender morsel of rabbit. It disappears faster than the click of a shutter button. The crunch of bone, audible.

He wants proof. He pulls out his iphone and says, ‘CHEESE’. For Instagram, honey. She smiles demurely. A thin shiny tail whips back and forth through clenched teeth, like black licorice.

(What a Babe! was originally published in Ellipsis Zine, Oct, 2018)

Curator, Flash Fiction -- Website

Karen Schauber is a Flash Fiction writer obsessed with the form. Her work appears in 50 international literary magazines, journals, and anthologies, including Bending Genres, Cabinet of Heed, Cease Cows, Ekphrastic Review, Fiction Southeast, New Flash Fiction Review, and Spelk Fiction. 'The Group of Seven Reimagined: Contemporary Stories Inspired by Historic Canadian Paintings' (Heritage House, 2019), celebrating the Canadian modernist landscape painters, is her first editorial/curatorial flash fiction anthology, winning 'Silver' in The Miramichi Reader's "The Very Best" Book Award for Short Fiction", 2020. Schauber curates ‘Vancouver Flash Fiction’, an online flash fiction Resource Hub, and in her spare time, is a seasoned Family Therapist. A native of Montréal, she has called Vancouver home for the past three decades. She is a member of the Canadian Authors Association, Federation of British Columbia Writers, and Writers' Union of Canada.