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Falling Stars – Flash Fiction

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With a finger tracing over her skin, she connected the freckles, dot to dot on her arm, tracing out the constellation that she used to be a part of. A constellation forever changed because she was no longer apart of it; but there it was, upon her skin, preserving its place in history. A nod to how it was.
Looking around, she took in the sight of her surroundings. For so long she had glanced down upon the earth from her place in the heavens, and now she was looking at the earth from within it.
She didn’t know what to do with herself now. A life lived up in the skies and then suddenly banished.

*****

Exploring her new surroundings, she quickly got used to her new legs. She traversed through hillsides and woodland for several days before she happened upon any native humans. Spent her days walking and her nights admiring her sisters from a different point of view.
When she came across a small village, she found the natives to be very friendly, even if she didn’t always understand what it was they actually meant. The women got her bathed and gave her new robes to wear, like she was a doll to play with. Everybody was interested in her, asking lots of questions. They had never met an actual star before.
“What are you doing here then, and not up there?” asked one gentleman, pointing skyward.
“Well, I was banished” she stated, thinking this should’ve been general knowledge.
“how can a star be banished?” asked another
Her face grew sad, “I’d started to collapse,” she spoke softly, “I would’ve gone eventually, but on my own terms and in my own way – out with a bang and not a fizzle. They don’t want you breaking formation unless it’s on their terms though”

[304 words]

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Shared Feelings – Flash Fiction

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They’d been working together in silence. A comfortable silence. They each got on with their own work, doing what they had to do with no chatter, no laughter. It certainly wasn’t unusual for them to do so, but it was definitely not the norm to be so quiet, so engrossed in their own work.
“You ok?” he asked, looking up from his desk and breaking the silence.
She glanced up from what she was doing and looked him straight in the eye. Spending a second considering what to say, she took a deep breath;
“I feel stuck” she stated, her voice taking on a tone of realism rather than her usual bright vocals. “I feel like I’m having a quarter life crisis or something. I’m in a state of flux – I don’t like everything about my life, but I don’t know how to fix those bad bits. I don’t know what to do for the best. I just don’t feel like I’m living – barely existing really. I get all these ideas about what I could do, but I’m too lazy to pursue them – too tired! I’ve got no real passion anymore. Nothing that will satisfy my creativity and be an income. I want the money, but without the work. I don’t want this 9 – 5 existence, going home exhausted and only living for the weekend – why is that even a way of life? It’s soul destroying. But it’s the norm, and the easy way out I guess.”
She trailed off; thinking about everything she just released, she turned to him, wondering if she had freaked him out with her verbal unloading.
“I feel exactly the same way” he half-smiled

 

[277 words]

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Desperate Times

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He looked at her. His hair was still a mess and in the bright morning sunlight he looked more handsome and more human than she had ever seen him.

“I guess I’m asking you to trust me.” he said

Every fibre of her being knew that trusting him would be a really big mistake but she felt that this was her only option – she was desperate.

Taking a deep breath, she folded her arms and said, “OK.”

Walking across his office from her spot in the doorway, they shook hands to seal the deal.

*******

She questioned what she had just done as she walked through the streets back towards her home.

She kept telling herself that it was for the greater good, that everything will be ok now. No amount of reasoning seemed to settle her anxiety though.

It felt like a heavy stone had lodged itself at the base of her sternum; her heart beating faster in a miserable attempt to get it moved.

“It will be OK” she kept repeating to herself. After all, some say that the bad times have often got to get worse before they can get better.

But she didn’t know just when they would get better – part of the deal was that he could use her anytime, anywhere, and for any reason.

*******

When a few weeks had passed and he still hadn’t reappeared her nerves were in absolute pieces. She found herself relying on smelling salts every few hours or so just to revive herself and her senses.

In an attempt to distract, she called upon one of her sisters to come and take a walk with her.

“So what’s going on with you?” her sister asked as they strolled through the park.

“Oh, nothing; let’s not talk about my boring life, I want to know about you.” came her reply, hopefully not sounding too secretive.

Her sister went on about the little ones, and her hopes for another. They talked about childhood memories and their mother and father. The little outing proved to be a great source of distraction. That was until he appeared, as if from nowhere, in front of them.

“It’s time” he smiled at her, offering his hand as if he were a gentleman

“You know this man?” her sister queried

She stood between them like someone who had just been caught cheating at a card game; not wanting to admit the truth, but unable to think of a plausible explanation.

“I’m sorry but I have to go” she turned from her sister to follow him but her sister grabbed her arm, turning her back around.

“You can’t go with that man” she declared
“I have to. It’s the only way to make things better”

Her sister sighed, lowering her voice “He’s strange. I get a bad feeling about him – like my blood turns cold just laying eyes on him”

“I have to go, we have a deal”

“But who is he?!” her sister demanded, holding tighter to her arm

“Lucifer.”

And with that, she tore her arm from her sister’s hand and went with him – off to fulfil their deal so she could finally get what she needed for her dying son.

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Filed under creative writing, flash fiction, Uncategorized, writing prompt

A Natural End

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I sat opposite her, an uncomfortable silence hung in the air between us; like we were strangers unsure of what to talk about. I didn’t feel the need or urge to tell her anything. Everything we’d usually talk about just didn’t seem of importance – we didn’t want to talk anymore.

We fiddled with our phones, looked at our watches – not taking in the time at all – and looked around at the other people. We used to come to this bar all of the time, but now we didn’t recognise anybody. They were all strangers now, just like she was to me.

Several years and I didn’t feel anything for her anymore. All of the memories felt dull and repetitive. I didn’t want to be with her now, and I could tell she felt the same way. There’s no point holding onto a relationship that doesn’t bring you joy right? No point clinging to somebody who makes things feel like a chore rather than a pleasure. This relationship only survived out of a sense of duty to each other I guess; to somebody who has been in my life for so long.

It’s not like we hate each other; no argument, no bad feelings. We’ve just… run our course.

It happens to everyone. You just grow apart, develop different interests, evolve as a person. No matter how big of a part they play in your life, you can’t always be the same, or change in the same way. That’s just the way it is I thought.

I needed to end the silence that hung between us.

“I know we’ve known each other since school; been through a lot together… but do you think it’s time to admit that our friendship is over now?”

 

[292 words]

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The Village Mob

Wow. Can’t quite believe it has been so long since I last posted a piece of flash fiction. I don’t have any excuses really… just life and a lack of great ideas. This new story though was inspired by people who interfere in other people’s lives, who make assumptions and judge before getting to know the real facts. I’ve really tried to create an old style fairy-tale with the imagery used. I hope you enjoy it. SK.

The mob of villagers chased her down. Pitchforks and burning torches were thrust dramatically into the rainy sky like trophies as they followed her, after her blood.

With her heart pounding out of her chest, her legs weak with fear she ran. They chased her, followed her, as she ran beyond the village, and through the rotting undergrowth of the woodland floor. Weaving her way through, she hoped they would trip over roots, be caught amongst the branches, and fall over each other, injuring themselves with their own makeshift weapons.

She ignored the tearing of her dress and skin on the thick bramble, using all her energy and adrenaline to keep moving forward. She had no idea where she was going, hoping that the villagers would tire and give up before she did.

As she advanced deeper into the woods, she lost her balance several times trying to navigate through the darkness; eventually catching her foot and falling to the ground.

Her ankle had twisted; she tried to get back up but couldn’t bear weight on it, falling to the ground again. The orange glow of burning torches grew bigger, faded chants became stronger. She remained on the ground, the rain becoming heavier, stinging her skin, as she awaited her fate.

If she had known that dating the local nice guy would end up like this, she wouldn’t have agreed to go out with him. She knew how into each other’s businesses the entire village were, but didn’t think that splitting up with him would bring so much trouble.

“There she is!” someone shouted. And within seconds, she was surrounded.
Unmoving, she remained where she was, looking up to the canopy above, rain still falling.

“How could you dump him?”

“He’s such a nice guy!”

“You were using him weren’t you?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” she sat up to defend herself. “Yes, I dumped him. But not because I’m just that mean. I dumped him, because he cheated on me! God, where do you get this information? You just make assumptions don’t you? You listen to idle gossip and never care for getting the real facts; never believing that the local “nice guy” could ever do such a thing.”

The villagers were silent, stunned by her outburst, stunned by the truth. The local nice guy wasn’t that nice after all.

They helped her to her feet, and started back toward the village; using pitchforks as walking aides and remaining in relative silence, they let the events of that night wash away.

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