Lara Croft's New Lover
Flash Fiction by Erin Cork
Lara Croft watched her new lover. A defiant dandelion in the grass, summer dress opening and closing to the breeze, knowing it would go to seed. Wishes blown, parachutes drifting and dropping. Begin again.
Lara Croft counted passion in bite marks left by her new lover an array of wildflowers and pinecone buds. She snapped selfies of each one, printed and pasted them in her journal, an accountant’s ledger.
Lara Croft rubbed her new lover like chamomile between her fingers and held her for future reference. She knew this is how she would remember her.
Lara Croft swam with her new lover in cool mint pools and time washed stones that lost their luster too long in the sun. Was it too soon to apologize?
Lara Croft knew that she should have resisted her new lover, the taste of sweet berries, rose hips and honey drip. But she was just a girl who can’t say no.
Lara Croft listened to woodpeckers, grasshopper wings and pine needles crunch beneath her new lover heel to toe. She noticed the grass fade to August yellow, too high and dry, susceptible to wildfire.
Lara Croft and her new lover wrestled. They fell to the ground tangled in Beargrass and Arrowhead Balsam Root. She and her father’s new bride threw off sparks and set their world ablaze.
Erin Cork lives in Missoula, MT where she writes and hikes in the mornings with her two rescue mutts. She works the swing shift as a train dispatcher, uses foul language, listens to a ton of music, wears trucker hats and drinks too much coffee.
She identifies as queer but believes this is a fraction of the whole. Her recent work can be found in X-R-A-Y Lit, Montana Mouthful, Homology Lit, Memoir MixTapes, Image OutWrite and Hypnopomp. She is currently editing her first novel.