Tag Archive: flash fiction


A moment of peace

The day’s rain could still be heard in the leaves of the trees, softly rustling in the gentle breeze, and plodding off the broken drain pipe onto the slate slab walkway below. The sky, however, had been washed clean. The stars sparkled and the moon’s illumination fell softly upon the night. While the easy rise and fall of the nighttime thrum sang of rest and eternity.

It represented a moment of peace, and in that moment everything was beautiful.

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Snow Angel

I am a covered thing.

She thought trudging through the snow. I am covered in hats, scarves, and coats, but no, that wasn’t it. It was something more than this. She felt… masked perhaps. The snow had reduced her physical presence down to the rustle of moisture resistant fabrics, the soft crunch of her boots, and the swirling crystals of her breath. It was a sensation that she loved and loathed in equal measure. The quiet lent her false privacy. It made her want to act childish and vibrant, even if no one was watching. However, the weight of the world softly sighing was hard to bear, begging her to shatter the near silence. The crisp white perfection a thing she desperately wanted to mar. The decision wasn’t even a decision. One second she was standing, and the next she was free-falling backwards, arms open wide. Sinking into the snow the thought came again.

I am a covered thing.

It’s quick, the shift from unknowing to knowing. It happens light switch fast, and is just as blinding as light after dark. Trapped is more than the word can portray. Trapped is knowledge of limits, is the feeling of unbalanced, is the need for air. It widens eyes, harshens sounds, lengthens seconds, and crystalizes thoughts. When the revelation hit… the world shuddered, it suddenly held itself between the blink and the breath, both waiting and poised. The next moment, so critical, was drawn thin to the point of becoming brittle. A crackable thing. Fragile but complete.

Then we both moved.

Up thoughts

Alice in Wonderland all rights to Disney


She stood on tiptoe her nose barely reaching over the edge of the table. The treats were so tempting sitting in their cut crystal bowl screaming “eat me”, but still she wavered. Some small animalistic lobe of the brain alerting her to the danger of too perfect an opportunity. Quickly she glanced side to side, sure she was about to be found out for the uninvited interloper she was, but no one looked or noticed. Quick as a flash tiny hand took tiny treat. The jolt of adrenaline added to the flavor making the sugar complex and wonderful. Wildly she enjoyed the stolen morsel, and having eaten her treasure sank to the floor… deflated. No one had noticed or cared. Emptiness filled her stomach and inch by inch swollowed her, mind and all. Everything now felt sharp and disjointed as if it had become over large or ungainly. She sat with her new feelings and confused by them began searching for explanation. She had gotten what she wanted, right? 

Yes, it had been exquisite in both anticipation and reality. So why did she now feel even smaller? 

The thoughts made her want to wipe her hands off, as if this mindset could be cleared away so easily. 

Maybe, no. Perhaps the real want had not yet been met. 

Immediately her searching switched to scanning. The treats were little, the pleasure they brought had been little, and the motive tiny. She would need something much bigger to make the smallness go away. Ruby and amber flashes winked at her from smoky glass decanters daring her to “drink me”. This, she thought, was no little thing this was big. The big action of a big person who people would notice. Decided she went for the decanter thinking only up thoughts. The flush of success, so newly acquired, slipped away as the liquid passed parted lips. It seared and burned on the way down pulling her after. 

Up it seemed was still out of reach.

Today I came undone. It was an interesting feeling akin to screaming from a dream, pointless and jarring. My words were nothing more than pathetic echoes reverberating out of me, attached to nothing, devoid of meaning. Scales fell from my eyes, liquid fire, blinding me to the light. As I stood in the maelstrom, begging it to strike harder, I paid willingly in pounds of flesh. Eased by the warm rush of blood. Calmed by the whiring in my ears.

My masks lay at my feet strewn like flowers, representations of things I dare not name. They are my most and least honest appendage in one. The masks repel and call to me with the same voice. It’s familiar, and my fingers itch to pull them up, obedient as always.

An acrid taste upon my tongue sours my stomach. Perhaps this pill wasn’t meant for swallowing, but the hour is late and I’ve already decided. So while Fate looms chill and shadowy behind me, a shark, keen in bloody water, I drop my arms, stand firm, and adjust my posture. I am ready to continue because continue is what I do.

Spring evening

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~Hungry eyes by ericadalmaso on DeviantArt~

Fucking spring.

I fasten the toggles on my Gloverall and start up the street. The wind pics up.

Tick…tick…tick tick tick tick tickticktick.

Perfect.

I hunch my shoulders, drop my head, and pull my hood up.

Squelch…skewe….squelch…skewe.

Damn it.

I shiver as a stray rain drop slides down my back.

Braaahhhhnnn! Ding ding ding ding. Brraahhhnn!

What time is it?

The cold wet of my pant leg starts to chafe pulling at my attention, a distraction from the ache in my side.

Slap, slap…shhaaaa…slap, slap…aaaahh…slap, slap. Ding…

I stop running and hold my side fighting for a full breath.

6:21! You gotta be kiddin’ me!

“You got a dollar miss? I need to get home.”

Yah, you and me both.

So this is an attempt at writing a first person present tense story. I became interested in this choice of perspective after I came across Whose skin am I in posted by J.S. Kuiken. This post was thought provoking and made me want to try my hand at a new and challenging story telling mechanism. Well it was very hard to tell the story without narrating, but I hope that I was able to keep you interested in my character and her plight. Be sure to check out J.S. Kuiken’s blog.

Façade

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As seen on Etsy - sookimstudio

It was subtle.  Not something the casual observer would have noticed.  Just a few well hidden hairline fractures in the otherwise perfect façade.  The constant fussing with her hair drawing unwanted attention to the pealing faux finish on her designer sunglasses.  The too fancy up-do nearly hiding the roots showing in her outgrown custom balayage highlights.  All the pieces were there, slightly shabby, but there, and to the unobservant she was a woman who had it all totally together.  Truthfully she was on the brink.  The clinched jaw, roving eyes, and fidgety hands gave her away.  She was holding on by her not so professionally manicured finger tips.

“You have to act like you don’t care,” I said over my shoulder when I caught her checking herself in the dark reflective glass of the subway window.

“Excuse me?”

“Act like you don’t care,” I repeated.  “If you have it, you know it, and you don’t have to check on it.”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she decided to ignore me, but she didn’t look in the glass again.  Instead she leaned back cocking her hip in an “I’m so bored pose”.  I couldn’t help but smile.

Poised

An acidic tang hung on the warm dry air, coating her tongue and souring her words, keeping unnecessary conversations to a minimum.  The silence suited Ayda though allowing her to stretch her senses as close to the horizon as possible knowing that the constant wind would distort sound and the fading light alter her depth perception.  Still she waited, poised, at the edge of a decision.  If going had been hard then returning would be nearly impossible.

“To the East,” she said moving forward in long steady strides.  They called her Ayda for a reason… nearly would be good enough.

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All rights to the owner who I thank for putting such a striking image on the internet.

It happened in an instant, the shift from givers to users, and world merrily followed after.  Down hill.  For all the good it did us.

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There had been a vote.  Not that it really mattered.  Fall was something you could feel in your core it wasn’t something you waited for on a calendar or determined by group decision.  It was time.  Group mentality be damned!

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As seen on Devianart by Blazing Potato

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