Despite it being a Camp NaNoWriMo monthāand thus having me busy writing the first draft of a new novelāI’ve been in a bit of a short story mood recently. New characters appearing and bouncing around inside my head until I grant them a short scene, old characters getting new stories…
And what are stories for if not for sharing? š So today I’ve got a piece of what I’mĀ calling ‘flash fiction’ but it might not actually fit with the technicalities of what flash fiction is meant to be. Details, details.
This is a little story that I actually wrote a few months ago, but I revamped it today to share it with you. š
The train hums like a trapped bee as the new passengers tramp on board, leaving dusty shoe-prints in their wake.
I scrape my feet slowly along the aisle, glancing back toward the door. I could run back. Say I missed the train. Just for one more night. My feet scuff even slower and a shiver goes down my spineā¦No. I canāt.
Dragging my gaze from the door, I look down the rows of chairs. Full. All of them. I swallow and turn toward the next carriage, but then my gaze catches on a single empty place. Itās right near the exit, in one of the best positionsāthough not by a window.
Why is it empty?
I scurry across to the seat but flinch back as I reach it. The passenger in the next seat seems to suck all the breath from my lungs in an instant. His clothes are black, his hair is black, his sunglasses are even blacker. I gulp and start to slide backward, but his head tips up slightly to glance at me. Iām too late. If I leave now, Iāll look like Iām scared.
Which Iām definitely not.
I slide into the seat, my feet barely brushing the floor. Settling down as far away from the man as possible, I tuck my hands down beneath my knees. The bee-hum of the train lessens a little and we begin to slide forward, but the humming of my pulse in my ears doesnāt dim.
If only I hadnāt noticed this seat.
The man seems so much taller than me even though weāre sitting down, and I wriggle myself sideways a little until Iām almost falling off the seat into the aisle. I keep my face turned away from him, looking down at my feet.
Heās like one of the enforcers from the Net. Those people who are always angry and always fighting people. Like dad. My stomach shrivels up inside me, and I twist my fingers into a knot on my lap.
The man shifts slightly and I peek sideways at him. His glasses block any sign of his eyes, but a tingle runs down the back of my neck as if heās watching me.
I look back at my feet again. Dad said not to talk to anyone. He said not to look at anyone either, in case they talked to me. I pull my braid over my shoulder and start chewing on the end, tipping my head a bit lower.
If heās sober when I get there, Dad might ask if Iād talked to anyone; I have to make sure Iāve followed his orders. My breath sighs out before I can stop it. He wonāt be awake, though. He barely ever is anymore.
I glance toward the door again. If I get out now, maybe I could find somewhere else to stay. Maybe find someone who would help me. I bite my lip.
I canāt. Dad will be cross, and I know I canāt risk that. My hand flickers up to brush the dulling shadow of a bruise on my cheek.
āWhat can I do?ā I whisper. My shoes donāt reply.
āPardon?ā
I jerk my head up, almost falling off the seat. The man beside me has a crease in his forehead, leaning toward me slightly. He heard what I said. He thinks Iām talking to himā
I scramble for something to say, my breath choking up in my throat. I mouth empty words for a moment and then blurt, āWhat do you do, sir? For a job, I mean.ā
The furrow in his brow remains for a beat and then it clears. He slides his glasses off and Iām suddenly trapped in his gaze.
Not angry. Not hating.
Deep, soft eyes; they peel away every layer of every fear right down deep inside of me. My heart throbs against my ribs.
A smile flits across his features and he offers his hand down to shake mine. āI help people.ā
My hand is lost inside his and I canāt pull my gaze away. I donāt want to pull my gaze away. āWh-what sort of people?ā the words come out breathless, and a small, faint spark of light glimmers somewhere inside me.
āSpecial people.ā He draws his hand back, adjusting the collar of his jacket.
I shrink back, muffling the spark. Special people. Iām not special. Iām just ordinary. Iām just me. I clasp my hands together on my lap, but something nudges me to look up again.
The man is still watching me, and I swallow against the dryness in my mouth. āWhoā¦whoās special enough?ā
His smile tugs at his lips again, lingering this time as that deep gaze rests on me. The skin around his eyes creases into tiny wrinkles and the spark stirs in my chest again.
āEveryoneās special enough,ā he says.
– – –
What did you think of that story? Have you ever tried flash fiction/short stories? Chat with me in the comments!
Aww, that is such a mixture of creepy and sweet and coolness. Loved it!
Yay! I’m so glad you liked it, Clare. š
Awhhhh <3333 *dies* WELL YOU WERE RIGHT AND NOW IM GONNA BE THINKING 'BOUT IT ALL DAY xD
How does it end though?? I assume the man in black helps her. ^-^ (I also hope.)
agh so cuuuuute <3
YEET. <3 I got such cuteness overload when I read over the original draft, that I just couldn't help but polish it up so I could post it.
Yess, he does. And she lives happily ever after. š
But then what happens? You canāt stop there. I donāt like flash fiction š
Haha! The man helps her and they all live happily ever after, of course. š
Ok. Well that is alright then.
Gaaaah yas! I love it still! *happy claps* And yes. I must know how it ends. *sits down to stare at you until it is written*
Yeess! *claps with you* Thank you!
It doesn’t go any further! That’s the end already. xD
*pouts* Okaaaaaay then.
Maaaybe one day I’ll write more, if more jumps into my brain. š
More, more, more, more. Wow. Turmoil, emotion, hope!
Maybe one day… I’m so glad you enjoyed it though! š
Jane i am so plsd i took time to read your story. I loved it, very well written and i cldnt stop till the end. So yep it must be good. Actually i thought it was going to stop before he answered. š
Aw, thank you for taking the time to read! š I’m glad it was worth your while. ^-^
Awwwwwwā¦ *fuzzies* I love this. š <3
Yesss. <3 Thank you! š
Ahhh, I loves it very very much!!!
Catherine
Eep, I’m so glad you loved it! š
WOW I ACTUALLY REALLY LOVE THIS! so good šš»
But I hate flash fiction because it always leaves me wanting more xD
Awk, thank you! š
Haha, that is a definite downside. XD
AH, I LOVED THAT. IT WAS AMAZING. YOU MUST WRITE MORE.
Thank youuu. <3 I'm smiling so big right now, girl. š
I might! But I've also got so many other things I want to write. xD
Aw, I love this so much!!! Surely you’re going to continue this…surely…you must…or I will die…
Oh dear…I wasn’t really planning to, but I can’t have you go and die on me. šÆ
So sweet! You are SUCH a talented author, my friend!!!!! <3
Thank you so much! Your encouragement really means a heap to me. <3
So sweet – “Everyone’s special enough (to deserve help)”. <3
Reading over the comments, there's a lot going "MOAR" and I think that's the sign of a good flash fiction?? xP
Yess it was so adorable to write. <3
Haha, I think it might be. XD
aaaahhh I loved that <3 Just the sort of hopeful thing I needed to start my day off š AWESOME JOB (and pls write more XD)
Awh, I’m so glad! š Thank you. (Hehe, maybe…)