Flash Fiction No. 68

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Sea Kiss

Brine gathered in her hair, sweeping in then sweeping out like the slow exhale of human breath. Sand clung at her golden curls in a race against the sea. Her still fingers lay curled in the smoothed dunes, half-buried.

She tasted of sea salt and red wine.

Waves crashed against rocks, creating a cacophony of crackles all along the bay, but her lashes did not part to show the blue brilliance of her eyes. Almost shrouded in sand, the bottle by her hand had been finished a long time ago. Dawn light crept rose tinted across her cream skin.

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Flash Fiction No. 60

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Cinders
A continuation of Picking Up The Pieces

“Bailey’s ’n ice,” he muttered to himself, staring through the heavy duty pane into the freezer. The frosted glass was scraped away in places, allowing him to see his new possession.

The glass was specially imported. He didn’t want any way for water elementals to slip in through the reflections. He smiled to himself, cold eyes burning through the window to the young man frozen there. It wouldn’t take long before she would come too.

He understood that that was how love worked having never tried it himself.

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Flash Fiction No. 59

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Picking Up The Pieces

She heard his screams from the other side of the mirror, but she couldn’t go back. Going back would rip her to shreds. The pieces were simply too small to pass through.

There was no way to save him from there. Without another mirror nearby or a pool of water, her elemental powers trapped her in the field. Fevered eyes stared back into the glass. A kaleidoscope picture flashed and died as the power of the other mirror finally broke into nothingness.

He had to make it.

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Flash Fiction No. 44

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A Kaleidoscope Vortex

He pushed the mirror and watched the ripple spread out from the place where his fingers had been, a million colours swirling in a kaleidoscope vortex. The reflection changed slowly. A bead of sweat popped on his creased brow. It was more difficult to control the molecules in a mirror than it was to manipulate water.

But water wasn’t solid. Water flowed.

This didn’t flow. Its stationary molecules were stiff and difficult to ply, but he was having far more success than he’d had before. He pushed the image around with his mind, distorting the colours until his reflection was dressed in a mishmash of green and blue. He took a step back and smiled then allowed the image to dissolve.

There were others who could do things like he could. But it was dangerous to tell anyone about it. Nobody would understand. And not everybody listening was your friend.

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