Flash Fiction #118 – Catfish

Doyle, 64, licks his upper lip, his tongue tracing the curve of his grin.

He stands at the door of Calvin, 21. He baited him online by pretending to be a young model named Julio.

His mouth waters. Twenty percent of the time he could steal a kiss—a grab—because the young fool feared confrontation.

Doyle knocks on Calvin’s door, but it’s an old, fat man that opens.

“I’m looking for Calvin,” Doyle says.

“I’m him,” says the old man.

With disgust, they stare at each other; tonight they’ve both been catfished.

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