Thursday, October 2, 2014

The Vision (Flash Fiction)

It starts innocent enough, but I know better.  It’s a small home, quiet and tenderly lit by soft afternoon sun.  The living room is dated in its décor, but the bones are quite striking; baseboard and crown molding as dated as the structure, hardwood floors rich like maple syrup, windows that are beautiful  portals, representing the loving soul the home possesses, and a fireplace mantel, solid and large, intricately carved, and impeccably cared for by an appreciative eye.  Lining the mantel are family photographs in ornate picture frames.  The center photo is of a young boy, no more than ten, his brown hair shaggy and cut in a style popular for the time.  He smiles so sweetly and has such life in his eyes, like two wells, deep and plenty with life.  My stomach drops as I stare at the photo and my head aches with a whirl of garbled words and cries and I feel a crushing pain in my heart; a break I’d never known.  I hear petite steps on a linoleum kitchen floor, and look towards the rhythm…
It’s a dense wood, silvery tree trunks and golden leaves rustling in the cold wind, the earth carpeted in the very same amber glowing death.  Blue jay screams are echoing and the gray sky feels infinite in its unapologetic stare.  My steps crunch and crackle as I’m directed, not of my own accord, to a thicker, shaded nook.  My eyes see the rock shelf plastered in autumn’s treasure, and as I stand atop it I see that from a distant eye it masks a five to six foot drop.  I don’t dare the jump, it’s not needed…I found what I was meant to see.  Tucked in the small hollow beneath the rock shelf, is the small, crumpled body of a boy, the wells long dry…

E.A. O'Connell

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