Flash Fiction No. 85

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Spreading

Palms and fingers braced my forehead as fire burned the skeletal reaches of my veins. I swear you could see the smouldering through my skin as thin as paper.

My sister curled up and watched as I battled two halves, flaming. All sound exploded in my ears. A concerto of fireworks. I writhed, unable to make out her face.

Why?

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#MarchMadness Fiction 3 of 4

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Start a War

Aston pressed his face against the window only to meet the eyes of his twin. She scowled, angry and vengeful. Moments later, the door burst open in a flash of fire.

“What are you doing?” he hissed. “Is it really clever to do that in public?”

“Is it this? Is it that? What? Why? When? Where do you get off questioning me all the time?” Murder smouldered in her gaze. “She deserves it, anyway.”
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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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