#Nightgale Flash Fiction 3 of 4

#flashfiction

“Darkling I listen, for many a time, I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die;”
– Keats (Ode To A Nightingale)

To Die & Become One With Nature

His eyes they closed, a simple plea to the dark enfold; forgiveness for what he was guilty. His heart it slowed inside his chest now a mortal beat within his breast.

Nearby, the ghost, she whimpered still. She’d seen his lover have her fill then flee the scene with nought but haste and fresh discovered immortal taste.

Yet here he lay as in crept the burning light of day.

The ghost, she wept, o’er filled with woe. His dying thoughts she longed to know. He’d been her lover. Her only one. And now that all was said and done… That had not changed, though every thought he’d rearranged to blame her for her own demise all wrapped up in loving lies.

Now as he lay in early morning light, the grey growing ever pale and bright, he thought of what had come and gone. The things he’d said. The things he’d done.

He made his peace at last he felt. The ice around his heart did melt. Immortal life, it slipped away, leaving him the mortal way. A last, resounding breath he passed. She didn’t leave, waiting ‘til his body basked in pale, pearlescent white.

It was without a single fight, he’d shook Death by the bony hand. In tearful joy dropped agony, he raised his cleared eyes to see the one he’d loved for always best that struck a beat in his ghostly chest.


This is a piece in accordance with Stevie McCoy’s #Nightgale blog challenge. Please check out my next piece next Thursday and the other entrants by following the hash tag on twitter.

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7 thoughts on “#Nightgale Flash Fiction 3 of 4”

  1. If I am following you correctly, then immortality has migrated fully in this post.

    "She’d seen his lover have her fill" had me rereading the series over and over.

    I suspect that I am quite caught up in what has transpired, though digesting this beautiful piece was as intense as his unwitting sacrifice for love.

  2. This is bloody brilliant (and a poem too! No end to your talents). Reminds me of the love child of Edgar Allan Poe and Tennyson… darkly gothic, but with bittersweet love in the mix. Amazing!

  3. And this is a direct follow up to the last one, right? I love the feeling that things managed to work out for all parties, and he finally ended up with the right love by dying. Or at least that's how I read it.

  4. Thank you to all of you for the stellar comments. Also, I'm so glad it touched you so much, Emilia.

    And yes, David, it's one big story. Sadly I haven't had a chance to write the end piece yet so hopefully that will be done and up either tomorrow or the day after.

    Sorry to you all for the wait.

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