Daily Flash Fiction Challenge

"Honey! Look at that one! It's a giraffe. The winds will change it. Wonder what it'll become or if it'll just stop being giraffe like.

I love to watch a cloud image morph into something new. What resembles a dog being squeezed and ruffled into what might become a baby but doesn't and winds up looking like a house. Everything slow, not frantic. It's a whisper for my eyes. It's magic."

"A whisper for your eyes? My, we are waxing poetic this afternoon. I love it when a submittal deadline is close. You become enmired in all those beautiful words you use when you're scrambling around like a badger in a full trash can trying to find the right one."

"Badger in a trash can, huh. I prefer, 'Immersed,' enmired means to be immersed in mire, pushed under the muck so to speak."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"Oh, you haven't been paying attention. I'm not talking dirty, but the giraffe fell apart after the breeze blew your skirt up letting it and everyone else see your underwear."

"Oh my god! You turkey, why didn't you say something?"

"I just did. Look at what you caused."

"What? Oh, a sword tha . . . OH - my - god, it's not a sword, it's a . . . sexual device getting ready to . . ."

"Let's go home. I finished my final edit for Syd. He said Tor wants it, but a couple others are looking too. I'll come up with something much more fun than whispering in your eyes."

"I should have known this morning you horn dog. Finishing really excites you. Let's go."

". . . Morph . . . Whisper . . . Any more dirty words I can influence you with?"

"Idiot! You drive and I'll think about when we get home."