Flash Friday #26

Prompt: http://flashfriday.wordpress.com/2013/05/31/flash-friday-26/

The magenta-hued sunrise frightened Timmy, but Mister Woofs said that the sun was okay. It was just the strontium in the air, and besides, this was the color of the sky on Mister Woofs’ home planet. Timmy knew that Mister Woofs had come from very far away, and was very old and very smart. He always did what Mister Woofs told him. When he was younger, that meant that sometimes Mommy or Daddy got angry, but then Daddy died and Timmy had been in his closet fortress when the soldier men had come to take Mommy away, and the fighting stopped.

There weren’t many people on the street this morning, and those who Timmy saw looked very scared. When they saw Mister Woofs, they turned very pale and ran away. Timmy didn’t understand that, because Mister Woofs was his best friend in the whole wide world, but Mister Woofs told him that these were bad people who knew they would get punished, and so that made sense.

Timmy had never walked this far, and his feet were very tired. Mommy would not let him cross the street on his own, and she had told him he was never allowed to play in the woods, even with a friend. But Mister Woofs said they had to hurry, so Timmy ran. He’d never heard Mister Woofs get angry at him, but he knew that this wasn’t playtime, and he’d better do what he was told. The woods were dark, and the magenta glow made the trees look like they were moving. Mister Woofs told Timmy to stop being silly, that the trees were just trees, and he needed to watch where he was going so that he didn’t trip.

The hill in the center of the woods wasn’t tall, but it was a very high hill to Timmy, and his feet hurt so very much when they got to the top. There was a rocket at the top of the hill, and Timmy saw that he was not the only child there. There were lots of boys and girls there, each carrying their own Mister Woofs. They were lined up to get on the rocket, and Timmy knew that he would be going on a great adventure.

He made his way into the rocket and found a seat next to a girl not much older than him. Her Mister Woofs was pink, with a big bow on its head, and she and Timmy pretended to have their Mister Woofs talk to each other as the rocket took off. Had Timmy been tall enough to see out the window, he would have seen that as his rocket climbed high into the stars, other rockets were falling down. Later that day, the sky no longer glowed magenta, for there was no sky anymore. Mister Woofs was glad.

Five Sentence Fiction – Desolate

Prompt: http://lilliemcferrin.com/five-sentence-fiction-desolate/

I walked, although there was nowhere to walk. I spoke, although there was no one to hear and no air to carry the sound of my voice. I dreamed, although there was no night and no day. I thought, although I did not exist. In the end, the world was without form, and void.

#VisDare 22 – Flight of Fancy

Prompt: http://anonymouslegacy.blogspot.com/2013/05/visdare-22-flight-of-fancy.html

As far back as she could remember, Natalia loved Midsummer’s Day as much as she hated Midsummer’s Night. The villagers were allowed to put down their burdens for a day, and they celebrated like they were princes of their realm, with utter abandon and joy. She snuck to the windows of the castle whenever there was a break in the preparation for the Dance and listened to their music and laughter and wished, each and every year, that she was with them and not with Mother and Father.

But as the last vestiges of red left the western sky, the revelry took on a more frantic tone. Children were sent to bed, and the wine flowed more freely. The villagers knew what was coming, and though they had no hope to resist, they could numb the pain.

The first chimes of the midnight bell echoed throughout the village as her family stepped from the road. Mommy was in front, as always, followed by Daddy. She and Caleb lagged behind, ostensibly helping Allabelle along. With a wave of her right hand, Mommy ended the peasant tune and caused the musicians to begin playing her favorite song, a waltz from centuries past, from when Mommy was young. Daddy clapped once, and spun on his left toe – once, twice, thrice – the dust kicking up from around his boot and swirling into the gathering. All whom it touched were lifted, spinning, Dancing, into the moonlight. Some had resisted, when Natalia was much younger, but none these days.

The Dance lasted until dawn, only Mommy and Daddy showing no signs of exhaustion. She and Caleb stood at the edge of the village, watching, not joining, but not leaving. Never leaving. Natalia had earned a glare from Daddy when she had hefted a sleepy Allabelle into her arms, allowing her to rest her little head on her left shoulder, but she stayed there all night, watching the Dance until it reached its conclusion.

As the drained and abused villagers were released from the spells and dropped to the ground, Mommy and Daddy bowed, as if they were thanking a virtuoso performer, and led their children back to the castle.

#ThursThreads, week 72

Prompt: http://siobhanmuir.blogspot.com/2013/05/thursthreads-challenge-that-ties-tales_30.htm

If Helen of Troy and Narcissus had a daughter, she would have been Veronica’s ugly friend. In the presence of such radiance, I was inconsequential. My flat-mates teased me. “You’re just jealous,” they said, but they were the jealous ones. I was ignored, to be sure, but none of them had so much as been in the same room as Veronica, whereas I saw her every day.

Veronica had never made eye contact with me, had never spoken to me, and now she never would. But I was no longer an irrelevancy. I knew her routine to the minute. I knew her PIN, where she kept her keys, what kind of cutlery she used with which meal. I could copy her movements exactly, although you’d know I wasn’t her even in perfect darkness.

My corpse was found in a place only she could have gone, killed in a way that no forensic expert could that there was any other possible perpetrator than Veronica.

No other than me, of course. But I’d lived a subliminal existence, and she was divinity made flesh.

Jealous? I was joined with her for eternity.

Mid-week Blues Buster, Week 15

Prompt: http://thetsuruokafiles.wordpress.com/2013/05/28/mid-week-blues-buster-week-15-ray-manzarek-edition-2/

The night edged closer to pitch black as the clouds thickened in front of the moon. Cresting the last hill, Allie could see them now, the tiny pinpricks of light through the trees. It was a small campsite, but large enough to house the Girl Scout troop from the farming town upriver. They’d never done anything like this, but it was time, and she could hardly keep from trembling. At her side, though, Ryan clearly didn’t share her excitement.

“C’mon, baby. We don’t need to do this.”

“I’m not your baby. And you don’t have to come – I told you, but I’m not killing another goddamned cat.” She was afraid to speak above a whisper, not wanting to spook the girls spending their last night on the lake shore ahead. Ryan had been whining about this ever since she’d had the idea. He just didn’t have what it took to truly embrace their gift, and it was becoming a real pain in the ass.

“You don’t have to kill cats. I know that’s not who you are. Just not this. There’s enough people out there that we can find – ex-cons, wife-beaters – but not kids. Please.” He hissed the last word, and Allie could feel her control over the night beginning to slip. If the girls woke up, they’d run, and she’d have a devil of a time tracking them all down before morning.

And this was definitely not a night to leave witnesses.

Allie signaled Ryan to a halt, and they squatted down behind a large tree. “I don’t know what happened to you in Tupelo, but it’s time to cut it the fuck out. We’re special. They’re not. There’s no more to the story. If you think because I let you sleep with me I’m going to let you stop me, you’re even more delusional than I thought you were.”

She took his hand in hers, and stared deep into his eyes, hoping to find an answer that wasn’t there. He couldn’t take it for long, and looked away, his weakness clear. Allie sighed. “You’re not who I thought you were. So go. Maybe someday you’ll understand what you really are. But if you try to stop me, I’ll slit their pretty little throats with the shards of your bones.”

Ryan slumped to the ground and nodded. They were through now, but he wouldn’t interfere. The same thing that prevented him from being her true equal would keep him quiet. Allie gathered herself, and refocused her awareness on the campsite. The girls were all that mattered now. Their beautiful sparks were weak and tenuous, but in that moment, she had never desired anything more. She’d guide each of them into the next world before dawn and wondered what it would be like to hold all of them within her at once.

 

Five Sentence Fiction – Charmed

Prompt: http://lilliemcferrin.com/five-sentence-fiction-charmed/

Lord, it was cold. Drifting this far away from the Sun in nothing but a hoodie and shorts, he’d frozen solid a long time ago. Not for the last time, he thought how he’d been the toast of the bar with his joking wishes of “I want to live forever” and “I wish this whole goddamned planet didn’t exist.” Jeanie had been damned cute, and he was drunk, and the feel of her body as she slipped the necklace with all the charms over his head was something special. Saturn really was a beautiful planet, especially up close like this. 

Mid-week Blues Buster 14

Prompt: http://thetsuruokafiles.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/mid-week-blues-buster-week-14/

The dull grey paint on the handrail was flaking, and Allie grimaced. With so much power available, was it too much to ask for a shaman to live somewhere that got a little upkeep from time to time? She wiped her hand on her jeans and opened the door at the bottom of the stairs. The room was dim, lit only by whatever wan light that could make its way through the dirty windows.

He sat behind a large faux-wooden desk that had been reclaimed out of a bank or insurance agency, the front lined with dents and a bit of rust around the edges. She looked into his eyes and grinned darkly. Here was power – as pathetic as this basement was, the man’s spark positively radiated from within. Allie was reminded of seeing some second-rate Elvis impersonator in a diner outside of Vegas. He had been decorated from neck to ankle in rhinestones, and the fluorescent lights made him sparkle brightly enough that she was briefly blinded. This was like that, only real. Maybe Elvis wasn’t dead after all – his spark was somewhere, in someone. She wondered if she’d get to find out. She certainly planned on trying hard enough.

He pushed his chair back and stood, slowly. Allie realized that she’d been staring too long and had given away her advantage. He would have been cautious, but not wary, if she had just come in and done what she had come here to do, but now his defenses were up. The kill just got harder.

“I see you are no accidental wanderer into my office, young lady. Please, sit, and let us talk.” She’d expected him to speak with a thick accent from Shanghai or Bangkok or somewhere like that, but he sounded more like her grandpa than anyone else. The shaman indicated the folding chair in front of his desk, and she settled into it, its legs wobbly and uneven, just as he clearly hoped she’d be. He followed suit, and his eyes grew vague, as he looked both at her and through her. The effect was much more disconcerting than his rickety chair, and she wondered for the first time if she had taken on a challenge that was too big for her. Only one way to find out.

“No, I’m not here by accident. I learned of you from a young woman you knew in Tuscaloosa. She was trying to stop me from killing her, but you and I both know how futile that was.” If Allie was trying to get a rise out of him, she clearly failed.

“My daughter was strong, but foolish. She believed that there was good in all people, even after her life with me.” His eyes cleared, and he was fully in the room with her again. Allie felt his power more deeply now, and she ached to learn its secrets. “I cannot mourn her, nor do I seek revenge. There is only what has happened, not what should have happened. The question is whether or not you are as big a fool as she was.”

“I’ve been called worse.” This was the moment – any longer, and he’d be too strong for her. He wouldn’t kill her for revenge, that was true, but she didn’t think that dying for any reason interested her. He was expecting her to move now, and she did. Given the opportunity, Allie would have relished taking her time with this kill, but the power she would gain was going to be incredible either way.

Her knife throw would have killed most men, but he blocked it easily, dismissively. Bullets, on the other hand, were not so trivial, and as her right hand readied the knife, her left drew her pistol and fired, the bullets reaching him before the knife hit the floor. One in each eye, as she’d hoped, and while she didn’t see his life passing from them, she felt it, a great concussion of strength bursting out of his corpse like a nova. Allie drew it to her, as with all the others, but it was too much for her conscious mind to take.

It was a year before she woke up.

@drmagoo

700 words

#VisDare 21 – Diverge

Prompt: http://anonymouslegacy.blogspot.com/2013/05/visdare-21-diverge.html

When she saw the coffin falling out of the hearse, Allabelle knew that she’d gone too far. She had just wanted to see her sister one more time – they hadn’t let her near Natalia during the funeral, and now they were going to stick her into the ground. That wasn’t fair. Even Caleb knew that, but he’d never say so in front of their parents. Her fear had overwhelmed her, and the horse panicked, being unaccustomed to hearing the cries of a small girl in its mind.

Mommy and Daddy didn’t look angry as they walked back to the carriage she shared with Caleb, but she knew they were. She felt it, like the empty spot on the cushions where Natalia had sat on other, happier rides. Daddy opened the door, and she knew they were staring at her, even as her eyes stayed glued to the floor.

“Explain.”

“It was me, Father. I was trying to show Allabelle her lessons, so she wouldn’t fall behind.”

Allabelle couldn’t speak. Why would Caleb say such a thing? Even if they believed him, which they wouldn’t, the punishment would be harsh. He didn’t even glance her way as he held Daddy’s eyes with his, and she wondered where this brother had always been. Maybe Natalia knew. The fear dragged on, and grew, as the silence in the carriage was broken only by the sounds of the coachmen loading Natalia’s coffin back into the hearse. Eventually, the procession was ready to resume.

“You are strong, boy, but not strong enough. And still a fool, as you have always been. To think I would not know her magic from yours? Pah! But if you want to pay a price, I am more than happy to collect.” Daddy turned away from her brother and spoke to Allabelle this time. “You are growing up too quickly for that childish name. Allastascia was a gift to you from your grandmother, and you will respect that, do you hear? And do not think your brother’s lies have excused you from punishment. With Natalia gone, there is much to be done, and you will take her place alongside your mother.”

Five Sentence Fiction – Accident

Prompt: http://lilliemcferrin.com/five-sentence-fiction-accident/

She was dying, and soon – there was no more maybe about it. He sat at her bedside as always, just watching her sleep, the decades of their life together playing out on her slackened face like projections on parchment. He saw it often, the day they’d met, and the cars that had crashed together in front of his bike, the drivers going way too fast through campustown. Her bike had crashed into his, too, at that busy intersection, and it all began. There, on the corner of First and Park, where two lives ended and two more were joined.

#VisDare 20 – Climbing

Prompt: http://anonymouslegacy.blogspot.com/2013/05/visdare-20-climbing.html

The old woman knelt by the little pile of dirt and patted it gently. Her hands were gnarled, but still strong. She grabbed the watering can resting near her left knee and gave the acorn she’d just buried a good soaking. She didn’t come back to the garden every day, but someone did, and soon a small green shoot worked its way out of the soil.

The old man tended the weeds around the tree carefully, ensuring that nothing would take precious resources away from its roots. The rains came not at all this time of year, and he couldn’t carry as much water from the creek as he used to.

The very old man and the very old woman stood near the tree. They’d nourished it with very nearly the last of their strength through these many years, and finally the tree was ready to blossom, the buds heavy and full of life. He took her hand in his and squeezed, lightly, trying to hold on long enough to see their gift to the world reach its culmination.

The extremely old woman and the exceptionally old man lay near the tree. Their chests rose and fell slowly, barely, and as the sun crested the hills, the buds opened. Within each one lay a babe, the first children seen since before anyone could remember. The sky filled with a chorus of cries, and though the two on the ground passed on, the tree brought life eternal back to the world.