Once, I touched your skin. And you didn’t seem to mind.
Now I touch your skin but neither of us can feel it.
They say fools rush in where angels fear to tread. I wonder how they knew and why it came to be said, sadness in my eyes as I stare at you from across the table.
“That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim”
– Keats (Ode To A Nightingale)
The forest clamoured with ghostly light, filtered through the broken boughs and slinking in the phantom fog, whereupon he supped the bittersweet taste of darkened memory. White flowers clustered close to his dream dazed head, poisoned stars in his forest bed.
Barefoot in mirthful mind she danced, a figment of his stupor advanced.
Continue reading “#Nightgale Flash Fiction 1 of 4”
She put down the glass. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Her eyes flicked over his face, blue pursuing grey. His expression remained unchanged. The lack of regret chilled her spine with the unerring sensation that she’d gotten something wrong.
Continue reading “Divine Hell Fiction: Treachery”
“But why?”
The cutlery in the hall stilled. One diner knocked over his goblet. Red liquid leapt from its grasp and pooled across the old banquet table. It spread across the ancient wood, squeezing in between plates and silverware, rippling as it pressed up against each object.
A chair tumbled over, a young girl falling to the flagstones with her eyes fixed in a glassy stare of horror. She hit her head but didn’t feel it. Blood and small splinters of skull smattered the old stone.
Continue reading “Dicey Flash Fiction: Week Two”
