I was born in a house with an unlocked door, had to teach myself to turn the key at night and then in the day to keep the warnings on the other side of this slate of wood, varnished to look like an invitation. For the Thursday Photo Prompt: Invitation
Almost indistinct, her watermark. Yet when I looked beneath your words I saw only her instead of you.
‘We should really address the elephant in the room.’ Those were the words you tossed out over coffee, like spare change or old candy wrappers, bits of pieces you were bored with carrying around and deposited on my living room table between the books and the plant pots. There didn’t seem to be much point explaining, your elephant wasn’t in this room, or hadn’t been until you kicked up dust clouds into a grey silhouettes. I kept my silence on the matter, much like you had kept yours until now, too cautious about the fall out, about how you might have to hold me together when all the pieces broke apart and ran for the corners in the skirting, white mice abandoning ship at the first sign of storms. I let you think you were the only one holding out a hand, while you explained why I was sad and how it could all be fixed if I tired hard enough and put in the work. You can learn how to listen to the some …
No matter how he wrapped the blankets around himself, the wind found a way through the fabric. When he’d been here before it was summer. Bright and green, the pass lined cherry blossom and blackberry brambles. The other men on the pilgrimage had ignored the fruit, chosen instead to set up camp on a rocky outcrop and dine on the tough heels of bread they’d brought with them. James had spent an afternoon with purple juice staining his hands and mouth. When he was done, he’d cleaned himself in the stream than ran close by, marvelling at how cool and crisp the water felt across his tongue. Now the stream was little more than a strip of ice, the brambles only thorns. Perhaps, James thought, he was seeing the truth of it at last. The beauty of before was only a trick designed to lure him in, distract him from the death that was waiting for him, now he could see it all he could see what this place truly meant. The wind screamed through …
They put the footings in to retain the planning permissions. Susan booked the day off to watch. Invited him as well, suggested they take sandwiches and tea, to watch the first part of their house take shape. Afterall, they’d spent eight years fighting the council for the go-ahead. They might not have the funds to build the entire thing yet, but they could celebrate starting. Then there were doctors, hospitals, a man in a grey suit with a sombre face. Susan’s brother giving a reading. All that was left were foundations.
The kindling was damp but still you kept at it with bruised knuckles, hoping we’d still ignite.
‘You know something, I think life was better on the other side,’ said the mummy currently unwinding the bandaged around her torso. ‘So there is one?’ Dr Williams asked, cheeks colouring as the creature plucked a bullet from between flesh her ribs. She examined it for a moment and then tossed it aside into the sand beside the yellow placard marking one of the entrances to the burial tomb. ‘I’m dead, a revolver is not going to make me any deader,’ she sighed. ‘No, of course not, I do apologise,’ said Dr Williams. ‘You just, well you know, caught me a little off guard.’ ‘You were preforming an ancient revival ritual in the middle of the desert over a corpse. What did you think was likely happen?’ ‘Well honestly, I thought nothing would happen,’ Dr Williams admitted. ‘Then why bother?’ ‘It seemed harmless enough,’ he shrugged. ‘The rest of the team have taken the day off and I was the only one about so I thought why not give it a crack. The least the …
When the sun rose the world was empty and quiet. Some mornings there seemed to be no one left on the planet Emil decided. Watching from the bell tower of the ruined village’s church, he slipped his phone from his pocket and checked the messages for the third time in the last fifteen minutes. The text he’d fired off to the Clave showed as delivered but unread. He tapped the lock button and tucked it away. ‘Come on, time to leave.’ He turned from to the corner behind him, not missing the way Leif flinched at the sunlight pouring in now Emil’s body wasn’t shielding the window. ‘Grab the shield. The Clave want that thing stashed away and out of sight before dusk.’ ‘You think someone else will come after it?’ Leif asked. He was younger than Emil, and not just in the sense that Emil had nine hundred years on him. Leif was barely twenty, still steeped in hormones and raw nerves. Emil had been closer to thirty-five when he was turned, battle hardened …
I’ve been taking part in fiction challenges for years but there never seem to be many for short story writers that want to tackle something longer than a hundred words. The best I’ve found is Chuck Wendig’s Flash Fiction Challenges. Seeing as there seems to be this shortage, I thought I might try my hand at kick-starting my own Friday Short Story Challenges. This week you have a carry on the story piece. You can add a single paragraph in the comments below and work with others readers to create a piece with many authors, or you can whisk away the start of the story from below and post your own full blown piece to your blog. Guidelines: You can either add a paragraph in the comments below or write a full story carrying on from the snippet below on your own blog and add your link to the linky tool at the bottom of the page. If you’re adding to the story in the comments then try and reply to the story thread instead …
Eloise placed the wine glass down on the table untouched. ‘You didn’t seriously…?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘You just…?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘Does that mean…?’ ‘Quite possibly.’ ‘Well shit.’ Eloise shook her head. ‘We’ll be needing something stronger than this then.’ She stood and skirted around the armchair that Mandy occupied, squeezing her friend’s shoulder as she passed. ‘Have you told Lim yet?’ Mandy shook her head. ‘Right, of course,’ Eloise nodded. ‘You can’t.’ ‘You know the rules. I’m not really supposed to be telling you any of this, it’s only because your clearance allows for a bit of leeway that I’m even here.’ ‘Not this much leeway Mand, we both know you’re only telling me this so you have some sort of net if everything goes wrong.’ Mandy grimaced. ‘It won’t go wrong though, will it? You’re the best and you’re going to come home.’ She handed Mandy a tumbler of whisky and returned to the settee. ‘Drink up before my Grandfather’s ghost turns up to tell us off for wasting his best bottle on such a gloomy night. He …
