I meant to write something like this four months ago, when I moved, but the agony was still too fresh, and, of course, no flashfic packing challenge in August. Anyway, here it is, in the immediate vicinity of 1,095 words:
611 words. Inspired by a Rolling Stones tune on the way into work this morning. Granted, “Mother’s Little Helper” has next to nothing to do with the story, but there you go.
507 words about Thatcher...who knew? Sorry for the lame title. I'm usually better at titles, I think, but it's just the best one for it. NC-17 for f/f and toys.
Kass Rachel wrote: "How about a packing challenge? Someone's packing heat; or packing a suitcase; or packing a sex toy (hm, not sure men do that, so maybe that'll encourage Frannie and Thatcher and Stella to get some action)..." Also think about backpacking and unpacking and packing heat and cough packages and what the guys might be, er, packing. *g*
However! What we will exclude for this particular challenge, at Kass Rachel's request, is any sense of wolves and/or sled dogs and pack hierarchy--that's for another challenge, my pretties. So show them packing but not as a pack, if you follow me.
It's Sunday night by my watch; challenge responses are due next Sunday at midnight.