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September 15th, 2026
by Doreen Vanderstoop
When Doris turned 80, she took to carrying her dildo in her purse. It wasn't one of those ridiculous over-sized jobs. Just a reasonable facsimile. Ken had been worried that his own dingus was too small, but Doris always quipped, 'it's not the size of the boat but the motion of the ocean that counts.' That always drew a chuckle out of him. God, she missed that chuckle. And his lovemaking. It's not like she'd ever been oversexed (was that a word people still used?), but now that Ken had passed, she enjoyed a bit of self-gratification as much as the next woman. Why not? In Doris's view, age didn't factor into matters of libido, interest did. And so what if the environment was a little dry--okay, Sahara dry, truth be told. That's what Vaseline was for. No one would question a jar of that old standby in her nightstand. Old people loved Vaseline as much as babies’ bottoms did. It was the Afib diagnosis that had changed things. She envisioned her son, Hal, rifling through her things, deciding what should go to the Goodwill store and what could be sold. Would there be a tear in his eye? Perhaps. But not if he found the dildo. He’d be mortified! So, she carried it with her. If she ever felt her heart begin to race, she'd pull her car over and throw the thing in the ditch. And no one would be wiser.
About the Author
Doreen Vanderstoop resides in Calgary, Alberta, Canada.
Read the writer's biography and Flash Fiction Takeover publications
on Doreen Vanderstoop's Artist Page.
Previously published in Flash Fiction Takeover:
Zazu's Questions
by Asakiri Zen
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