Here is number 7. Recent events have resulted in me creating a very sombre flash…
Flash Fiction #7 – Finality
I stood there, absolutely helpless. All the time, every second I watched him slip into the darkness I kept asking myself: ‘why can I not solve everything for the people I care about?’ Why are we so powerless against it all? Nature? Time? Fate? Maybe it is fate… or maybe it isn’t, I’ll never know to be fair. Don’t think anybody will…
Although she was no relative of mine, I cared for her regardless. She was like the grandmother I never knew. How old is she? 94? 95? Whatever her age she’s had a good innings, a good run, a decent stab at life even though she was cooped up in a bed for the last four years or so. This isn’t fair.
I brush my hand over her face – it’s grown cold so fast. It must be horrid to be awake when it happens… to be aware that you’re going to die and shedding that tear at the end. She shed a tear. It’s still running down her face; making a little river in the deep creases of her leathery features. I wipe it away and kiss her forehead.
The single white rose at her bedside table, the one I brought her a few days ago, had wilted. How appropriate. The epitome of life summed up in a flower. Everything gets created, has its little span in the breadth of time, then it’s “Poof!”… gone forever.
The hardest part is watching it. Knowing that they don’t have long left but putting on a brave face nonetheless… or trying to anyway. My heart goes out to her family – the ones who loved her, and the ones she loved in return. Her cherished family. Her son, my close friend, has already run out in tears, yet I remain as if standing vigil against any bad spirits come to whisk this departed soul away to the wrong side of the afterlife.
Her soul is too strong to be wavered by temptation. They live on… but on another plane, and they watch us still.
Rest In Peace.
Here is a piece I produced for a university exercise I did earlier. Hope you enjoy
Flash Fiction #6 – Contrasts
Wispy clouds whipped across the sky, their fluffy forms caught in a turbulent wind high above the ground.
In a nearby school playground children raced, hopped and laughed their way around the small arena. Their playful giggles and youthful shouts echoed every which way, carrying themselves through the dry air naturally. The resounding whir of car engines darted by, their passengers like sardines in a tin waiting to be opened and released. A lone bird swooped up and down with graceful whooshes and hungry cries, its beady eyes forever scanning for even the tiniest morsel of food scraps.
Such a beautiful day was marred only a few blocks over.
There should have been a thunderous cloud overhead, throwing down its depression by the bucket load. A sea of black suits, dark grey dresses and tear-stained faces – that’s what should have been expected, but it wasn’t what was there. The vicar read the passages, returning one of his flock back to the dust of eternity. A burial with only two mourners; three if you count the solitary raven staring down at the grave.
A son and a daughter – they are the only ones left as they watch their mother being slipped into the one bed she would never rise from. The service progresses and the tears fall. A loss of life and it suddenly hits home – they are the only ones left of a diminished family. A sombre mood rushed through the graveyard. The raven took flight.
The exit from the scene was nonetheless sluggish. The son and daughter embrace each other, tears dampening their attire. A stranger presence catches their attention. An elderly man in his sixties stood leaning on a stick.
Who was he?
Their mother was his sister.
Their shock is apparent in the midst of almost tangible morbidity.
He has a family… maybe they are not alone after all.
Here is my very late piece
Flash Fiction #5 – Stranded
Should I have gone there? Could I do that? Where was I when that happened? What will happen next?
All I can do is sit here in the cockpit of my ship and float from star to star until the next lunar barge wanders past going about its business. Things like these are the lowest forms of hope but hope nonetheless. My eyes hurt from all the staring at flashing computers and consoles… I think it’s time for a snooze.
But no! Why can I not sleep? Am I ever going to sleep?
The ship rocks from one side to the other and I’m thrown about like a rag doll in a hurricane. That damn cosmic crap floating around here. Where is here? Is here ever going to be discovered? I’m far from home – 20, maybe 30 light years or so? I don’t really know anymore… all I know is that it’s bloody far and I’m stranded in this coffin of a shuttle. I hope the food and water supplies last long enough.
What am I doing out here? I think I can tell you about that one.
I’m just a simple explorer but because of the military tensions going on in this sector as of late it’s hazardous as heck. Just yesterday I was shot at by some trigger happy weirdo in a cruiser – she claimed I was a security breech in her government’s spacial zone. Moron.
What have I got to look forward to at the moment? Well I was looking forward to snuggling up with the wife and having a hot toddy when I got back to earth. Things always go to shit for me.
Please people come find me. I want the warm touch of my wife again instead of the cold-walled confine of this tin can. All I can do now is sit around and twiddle my thumbs.