King for a While

Flash Fiction

It’s our escape I suppose...in a room full of dirty laundry, discarded coffee mugs and a working week’s neglect, I have a chance to feel powerful. For a while our peeling paint, wonky wardrobe, love space is transformed back to a majestic Tudor bed chamber. Our bed is a no poster rather than a four poster but why worry about that when there is an opportunity to be King?
And she is willing, the Queen.  She has told me that I can do anything I want, absolutely anything. She won’t tell me what because that would spoil it. It has to be my will, my desire.