Flash Fiction
“Do gerbils love?” Paul pondered as he spent what could be his last moments breathing next to the love of his life, Sophie. The two were a pair of hopeless half-wizards and even though their hearts were recently connected, it felt like they had been in love for centuries.
Maybe in a past life?
Maybe in a past spell?
Whatever it was, Paul stood there with an invisible rope binding him in place–the slightest movement was an act of severe futility. Would Humphrey turn him into a gerbil, an elephant, a gecko, or the latest edition of Better Homes & Gardens magazine?
Whatever he was going to be, he wished for the ability to love. And to continue to love Sophie, too. But what would she be? If Humphrey could turn them into anything under the natural sun, what spell would he conjure up for his beloved Sophie?
The dank air of the firm’s office swirled around the hostages as Humphrey laughed maniacally from his throne. A snap of his finger . . . a flush of his lips . . . a slap of his left hand to his right ear and then . . .
*POOF*
They would all waddle like ducks waffling around for a place to find comfort.
As he snapped back to life from his daydream, the bulky image of Humphrey approaching him increased in size. His jowls hung viciously on his face, and his razor-sharp teeth barked out of his mouth.
He gawked at Paul with the intent to do bodily harm and whispered, “Now, where were we, you insolent fool?”
“Gerbils,” said Paul. “Gerbils . . . do they love?”
I am currently reading, The Portable Door by Tom Holt, and a particular phrase in this book (the title of this story) shook something alive in my brain. What you have just read is the product. I am nearly done with the book, and I cannot wait to write the review for it, too!
A Cornered Gurl 
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