Joint Venture

My married, midnight visitor arrived with a bottle of vodka and the scratch-and-sniff issue of Hustler.

“Here, scratch and tell me if that’s what it smells like.”

“Will it wash off?”

We smoked a joint.

Next morning she said, “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Conscience bothering you?”

“No. Smoking a joint. I’m pregnant.”

***Faster than a speeding gummy, able to leap small buildings at a single bound Flash Fiction is a guaranteed page turner.