The following flash fiction was inspired by the people of New York, and the street photography that captures the diversity and excitement of the city. Â The story, names, and situations are all 100% fictional. Â Â Photo and story by Neil Kramer.
Honey, Sweetie, Hot Mama. Sherry had heard them all. She was an expert in wolf whistles, deciphering the lout’s jerk-level from the tone and the pitch.
New York was a tough place for a looker like Sherry. The men showed no respect. Every guy, from the Wall Street CEO to the delivery man thought that he was Prince Harry, and she was the royal prize.
Sherry didn’t hate the men of New York. Â She hated herself. Â Because she knew that when the time came when no one admired her ass for the precious jewel of her youth, that she would miss it.
Ah, yes. One of the many paradoxes in a woman’s mind; you want men to notice you but when they do you sometimes feel cheapened. It’s a fine line men must walk.