Flash Fiction Friday

I meant to do this last Friday but I just have been insanely busy lately and I barely had anything to share. So… now there’s this.

Some know, some don’t but I’m a Pagan, so sometimes that really influences a lot of my writing. Especially for spells, short prose, and poetry. This is an extremely personal piece I’m sharing with you, something that pretty much hides away in my Book of Shadows. But… I want to share it anyway. 🙂


Vision of Her ©2014 HK Rowe

I had a vision of Her, in the most beautiful clearing in a forest, a little slice of Summerland on Earth just for us.

She saw me weeping and took my hand, and She drew me to a hill glittering with yellow spring flowers and emerald green grass.

As She pulled my hand to follow, I saw Her face, Her smile – the brightest  I have ever seen, brighter than sunlight, and Her hair was long and flaxen, wild and windblown.

Her laughter was warm and soothing as a summer breeze, and Her head had a crown of flowers atop of it.

Suddenly as we twirled, dancing and laughing together with her hands still entwined, fairies began to shimmer around us, playing ancient music of happiness and joy.

I laughed with Her. Danced with Her, and with Her eyes of moonlight, she gazed at me lovingly, warming me through my heart and soul.

We danced until the sun went down, where it felt like no time at all had passed.

Finally tired, we collapsed into the grass, cool from the twilight. I caught my breath, but She still held my hand.

I turned to look at Her, and She smiled one last time.

I followed Her gaze to the stars, and when I looked back, She was gone, returning to the Moon, but never really leaving me, looking down at me, watching and forever dancing with me within my soul.

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Flash Fiction Friday

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Maybe this can be a regular thing. I see a lot of people writing Flash Fiction here, and since I love writing short things, I thought hey, maybe I’m missing an opportunity here.

This piece is old by about two years. I wrote this for a small fiction challenge over at Livejournal/Dreamwidth.

Title: Art Show
Word Count: 506
Genre: Horror
Rating: R
Warnings: Abuse, murder, torture
Notes: Written for the Summer Mini Challenge for the “berry pink” prompt.

Summary: Some things die before they are truly yet beautiful.

He took a sip of tea, and smiled as the girl continued to scream. Forbes had clicked his tiny knives together, and the youthful squeal of metal against metal filtered throughout the room. In one swift motion he jabbed the woman’s torso an inch above another knife, sticking three inches below her ribs.

“What kind of tea are you drinking, sir?” Forbes asked his master. His master continued to look out the window of their high rise building, listening to the loud hiss of acid rain against the pane of glass.

“Ah,” his master replied, “it’s Jasmine tea. I chose it in celebration.”

Forbes nodded, clicking two fresh knives together. He peered into his magnifying glasses, and jabbed one of the knives into the other side of the girl’s stomach, symmetrical to the one he’d just used before. He watched in fascination as the blood from the knife painted over her curry-colored skin. Breath escaped her berry pink lips less and less as he stuck her, sliced her, and blood started to trickle onto the floor, marring the pristine white carpet into various splattered patterns.

The master turned from the window and stared at them, entranced. His lips pursed. He was thinking – imagining, something terrible and beautiful at the same time.

It was just beyond his reach, and then…

“Sir, this one is starting to dwindle,” Forbes interrupted his thoughts, and he caught his master’s smile turn into a displeased sneer.

“Try to keep her here longer. We’ve just gotten started.”

Forbes picked up another knife, different than the others, with a blade that was pointed and curved in a half-moon shape. This one was his favorite. He smiled and stuck the girl after he had found the right place. Blood poured down her torso, running into the paths of the rest of her blood and then dripping into her navel. He picked up a smaller knife and struck her again, and then a spasm ran through her body. She let out a tired agonized moan, and then her breath was lost.

“This one has expired, sir,” Forbes said, his voice stark and cold. He looked down at the half-finished masterpiece and awaited his master’s reply.

With an exasperated sigh, his master took another sip of his tea and his lip curled with bitterness. “This is a failure.”

Forbes studied the girl, decorated with his custom knives and dressed painterly in her own rich blood. Forbes thought she looked magnificent, even if the piece was unfinished. He certainly didn’t think it was a failure.

“Why?” he asked his master, hovering his finger over a perfect river of blood down her leg, wishing he could touch it without ruining his work.

His master took another sip. “The tea is still hot, Forbes.” He walked over and traced a light, loving finger down the girls’ cheek, twirling her dark hair on his finger.

He spoke with disappointment, “There just wasn’t enough time to enjoy the art.”

 

I hope everyone has a marvelous weekend! Cheers.

HK Rowe