Prompt: Boa in the kitchen

Hat tip to my dear friend Mud Myudes for the share, 

which is so widely shared, I don't know how to otherwise attribute. 

Sterling pulled out her keys as she climbed the brownstone steps. Jerrick hadn’t seemed to notice her attempts to brush him off as they walked back from their interminable first date at the corner Italian restaurant. First? Ha. Only. She couldn’t get in the house fast enough. Trouble was, it seemed, neither could he. Did he really have no idea how uninterested she was?

Before she could say goodnight and escape, he pushed open the door as she unlocked it. “May I come in? I hate for the evening to end so soon.” Did he think he was being smooth? Really, she was about ready to start coaching him. For his own good. And the potential enjoyment of future women he might date.

She glanced at her watch and looked sideways up at him, standing in the doorway to block his entrance. “It’s late, and I have to get an early start, so—”

“That’s okay, I hear you. Would you mind if I just got a quick glass of water or something to drink before I head back across town?”

He wanted to guilt trip her now? She forced herself not to roll her eyes, and kept her tone neutral. “Sure. I’ve got water bottles in the fridge. You can take one with you.” She led him into the foyer and up the stairs to the first landing. He looked around with interest. “This is a pretty sweet old brownstone. Wood paneling and everything. I bet it costs a small fortune!”

She did roll her eyes, but she was looking at the door handle as she unlocked it, so she felt fairly safe. He wanted to compare incomes now? She opened the door and set her keys on the table by the door, flicking on the lights as she walked down the short hall to the kitchen. “Come in. I’ll get some water.”

Jerrick followed her a little too closely for comfort. She turned on the kitchen light and calmly stepped over the fat yellow tail stretched across the kitchen floor, heading for the fridge. She felt the space open up behind her and smiled. Jerrick had stopped cold.

“Pinky! You bad boy. You got out of the tub again, huh? Well, I’ll carry you back in there in a minute. Hey, get off the counter. You know that’s not for you.” She nudged the ribs of the golden boa, whose full ten feet lay across the floor and up the cabinets to the counter, where he had looped a bracing coil and was moving his head back and forth along the counter, flicking his tongue.

Without turning, she opened the fridge and leaned in. “I have plain or mineral water. What do you like?” She heard a rustle and fast footsteps. Jerrick raced out of the apartment without a word. She grabbed a plain water and closed the fridge.

Leaning against it, she tilted the bottle to the boa. “Thanks, buddy. That almost made up for dinner.” The boa lifted his head and stuck out his tongue, making a hissing sound she swore was laughter.

“Yeah, you still can’t have anything up there, so climb on down, okay, buddy?” Without waiting for an answer, Sterling went into the living room and flopped on the couch, turning on the tv and flipping channels until she found a tolerable movie.

“You looked like you could use the assist,” Taylor as he came in from the kitchen and jumped over the back of the couch to curl up beside her. He grabbed the remote. “Hey, Cabaret is on TCM,” he said, switching to Lisa Minelli.

Sterling lifted her water in a toast. “Life is a cabaret ol' chum…”

Taylor joined in, “so come to the Cabaret…”

                                 

Dogs in house	Houdini, Brindle
Time writing:	40 minutes, interrupted
October word count:	6,668