The Original Tiff

I've discovered a lovely writing site called Your Messages. The blog owners give you the first line and you have to respond with an ending making the final piece 300 words or 30 words exactly. It only runs til the end of November and I wish I'd found it 20 days ago. Anyway, I thought I'd post today's Misssy effort here, because you might enjoy it. The given first line is in bold.

“ Leeches were once a favoured species. They sang; their bodies were encased in mother of pearl shells. The first leech to taste blood said it was all a terrible mistake.” she said.

“Are you saying that to make me feel better? Because it doesn’t.” he said, back turned in anger.

“No, I’m just saying it to remind you that we’re not the only ones. We’re just the ones that seem to get remembered.”

“Yeah, TELL me about it. It’s all people ever talk about.”

“You must admit, it was kinda worth it, wasn’t it?” she said, as she tickled the back of his neck, teasingly.

“Worth it! Worth it?! Only you could say such a thing,” he said as he shrugged her hand away.

“OK, stay in the huff about it, it was only a lousy garden. If you stopped sulking, maybe we could get on with finding another one. But no, with you it’s got to drag on for days, hasn’t it?”

“Shut up.”

“I will not shut up. All I did is what any woman would do. All I did is what you would have done eventually. Once you’d got over yourself and your appendage.” she said, pointing at his crotch.

“Don’t you dare point at that! You’ll be lucky if you ever see it again after what you did!” he shouted. “Anyway, you’re one to talk, that serpent is a pretty telling metaphor, lady! How do you explain that one, eh?”

“Oh give it a rest. So, what’s this place called anyway? Adam.... I think we’re lost,” she sighed looking around at the barren land around them.

“No we’re not. We’re not lost”

“Let’s ask someone…”

“No, we ARE NOT LOST!” he fumed as he walked on ahead, his fig leaf blowing in the harsh wind.

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