Flash Fiction No. 44


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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Flash Fiction No. 19


And All Around Me Is Burning

I felt the flicker in my fingers when I was stroking the cat. It always starts like that.

A flicker.

And then the burning comes like you’ve put your hand into molten candle wax. Then your skin goes numb. You can’t feel the burning any more.

It’s almost pleasant.

When I was younger, they used to think I did it on purpose. They thought I had issues. That’s what everyone always thinks when you’re not like everybody else.

It could never be something a little bit different. It could never be a special power. It could never be magic.

Magic doesn’t exist.

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