Passages

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2013-01-13 09:17:48

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_{Stories by [Linderel].}

This is my prose work, mostly vignettes and flash fiction, arranged in order from newest to oldest.* Be advised: I am not a cheerful writer. Some of my texts have been described with the words "soul-crushing bleakness of Dickensian proportions". If you harbour an affinity for melancholy pieces, you may have come to the right place. Click on the banners to get to the stories.
Please take a minute or two to leave a comment after reading.

_{*The order is a bit rough when we get to the oldest ones. I have no kind of record about when they were written exactly.}

There is an aviary outside her window.
Inspired by [Chimes]'s photography.

*

She was a quiet one. Always had been, and probably always would be.

*

The glass shards glinted at her from the sink, mocking her, the bastards.

*

She stared around, remorse churning like bile in her gut.

*

'Can't I?' he had asked, like so many times in the past few months.

*

She had never been afraid of the dark before.

*

This amazing find would surely cheer her brother up.

*

'Are you trying to build us a paradise, Rosa? Build me a paradise? Hmm?'

*

She was a wildflower; beautiful, fragile, impossible to control.

*

He has vowed to live without regrets until the inevitable happens.

*

'My momma's in the wind, she's whispering to us all. Can you hear?'
WritersCo contest entry. The first line was given.

*

Reunion

'Hello, luv. Did you miss me?'

*

It was the only way she knew how to deal with things, alone.

*

The Hunt

It is a moonless, starless night when the beasts hunt. Half man, half demon, they are monsters found only in the deepest, darkest memories of history.

*

This is how poets die.

*

Like this, it is perfect.

*

Boys don't cry.

It would all be better soon.

*

The Crone

The crone observed her young student, noting how he furiously blinked away tears of frustration and balled his hands in fists, opened them again, closed them again.
WritersCo contest entry. The first line was given.

*

She remembers, and oh, how she longs for those days, those nights, when everything was still so pure and beautiful and oh, so wondrous in her innocent eyes.
Inpired by a drawing of [Zab]'s.

*

Like shadows, they moved from one room to another, from patient to patient.

*

The Hypocrite

He had never claimed to be a good man. Had never lied. Had he?
Companion piece to Forsaken.

*

Forsaken

Whimpering, the young mother fell on her knees, rough floor scraping bare feet, unyielding under an onslaught of tears.

*

Food Trouble

How they still managed to have leftovers more than a week after the actual holiday remained a mystery to Jennifer, but nevertheless she found herself stocking her fridge with containers of ham and turkey and casserole and lutefisk, among other things.

*

A Kind of Christmas Magic

Three nights before Christmas found the house of the family Abbot a beehive of action.
Warning: Contains blatantly obvious opinions.

*

Pet

Every child has his or her own bogies, incarnate in a variety of forms.

*

It was cold. Paralysingly, piercingly cold, the kind that makes you simply want to curl up and wait for either an inevitable death or someone, anyone, to come by and help.

*

Dance of Innocence

Moonlight filters through from the stained-glass windows high on the ceiling, creating a dance of shadows on the white marble floor.
Inspired by a drawing of [Levoton]'s.

*

In the break of dawn, a tiny giggling voice could be heard from the field of grass spreading behind an age-old forest. Dew drops sparkled when the rays of sun hit them, making the field glow in an ethereal way.
Inspired by [Kaimee]'s 'Grass' drawing.

*

Sinner

From the first rays of dawn till nightfall she came to sit on the very same bench.

*

'Seven days ago, I ran away from home.'
A Creative Writing assignment.

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