Dedicated to You [FICTION]

A day late and a dollar short? I wanted to at least give my writings one read before subjecting the public to them. This concludes my flash fiction time with Writer’s Digest, but don’t worry, they do a challenge in April for poetry. Who can’t wait for that?

For those questioning the title of this post, I would like to dedicate this to my son (or so everyone assumed when they saw his dark hair and dark eyes) and his lovely mama (not me, to be clear). Jare-bear and Teffie, I hope you have a great day and an even more fabulous month.

Day 18: Dream Day

“Linnea, you won the award for most fashionable,” the yearbook advisor grins at her. 

“It was unanimous,” Tana, the most popular girl in school, gushes and gives her a huge hug, “I can’t wait to go shopping later.”

“Me either,” the enthusiasm proves infectious.

Linnea blinks and the day disappears behind her. She stands at Tana’s side in her favorite boutique to browse. A scarf here costs more than she earns babysitting in a year. That information leaves her mind as the two girls select potential outfits for picture day and step into the dressing rooms. After a couple swaps, she finally puts the finishing touches on the perfect outfit.

As she steps out to get Tana’s reaction, a loud bang echoes through her head. She screams and leaps up, knocking her knees on the desk.

Mr. Michaels places a hand on top of her head to push her back down, “Young lady, I like to think the smile on your face was brought on by my lecture, but today’s topic was Jim Crow laws and voter fraud and I hope neither of those topics brings you joy.”

“No, sir,” she mumbles, keeping her eyes on the floor as his scuffed shoes head back to the front of the room and his monotonous voice resumes the lecture that chased her into dreamland.

Day 19: Personal to Dante

Sometimes he wondered if his mom hated him or loved classical literature. She claimed she loved him more than anything but, today, he leaned toward being loved less than the OG Dante.

“Dante?” A saccharine voice whispered in the darkness.

He didn’t respond. His muscles froze him where he stood. He questioned whether breathing would give him away, but he knew he couldn’t hold his breath long enough to wait her out. 

“This isn’t funny, Dante. I just want one kiss.”

He closed his eyes against the dark, questioning how he got here. If he kissed Cass, she would cling harder to this crush. They’d been best friends since kindergarten. He’d counseled her through every heartbreak. They told each other everything. If he broke her heart, they’d never speak again. 

Worse still, their new friend Opal would probably join her in freezing him out. He didn’t know the specifics of girl code but that felt like a given. 

“Dante,” Cass called again.

By some miracle she seemed to be moving away from him. He took tentative steps away from her. He paused every few steps to listen for her approach, but her socked footsteps remained as muffled as his own. 

Then he bumped into someone in the dark. Slender arms reached up around his neck, pulling his face gently down. He resisted and his captor rose up until her lips met his.

Day 20: It All Ended

The world we know so well ended today. I know this to be true because every leader in the world, free or otherwise, declared that this would be so. So why am I standing here pondering whether I am ready to open the door and join that ending?

Because no one is truly ready to face the end. Except for, maybe, possibly, perhaps, those who have come to grips with their mortality or accepted the will of their maker. I assess myself. I have done neither of those things. Besides, I have too many goals on my bucket list. The world can’t end if I haven’t finished those tasks, right?

What was that sou…

Day 21: Never Georgia

“I don’t care how good the peaches are. You know I don’t go to Georgia,” his lips turned up in a sneer.

The tiny man across from him frowned as he focused on his screen, but he didn’t speak.

The other man’s bushy, dark eyebrows rose closer to his receding hairline, “And I don’t want to watch them boil peanuts in a giant kettle either.”

“Of course, sir. I should have never suggested a place that is ever warm…”

The client looked suspicious, “No Siberia either, I have too many followers there.”

“I think I have it,” the little man beamed and turned to the printer as it whirred to life behind him.

The client took the paper with slender, sunburned fingers, glancing at it as his head nodded agreement, “Excellent. How soon can I book my vacation for Antarctica.”

The travel agent began detailing a complex travel itenary. By the time he reached the third step, his client stood up and raised his hand firmly for silence.

“Just make sure those scientists have a room for me. I’ll get myself there.”

Before the agent could reply, his client turned to saunter out the door. He grabbed a pitchfork with a sunburned tail on his way out.

Day 22:  The Spot

“So this is the place you come to relax?” The first flea rubbed his back legs together speculatively.

“Yes, but don’t tell the wife.”

“Heh! As if she’d leave that golden doodle of hers,” his friend sniffed.

“She doesn’t love the flavor of the dark stuff,” the second flea did a jig across the dark patch of skin, “Give it a try?”

His friend leaned down and dug in just enough to extract a sip. His eyes closed. His legs jerked ecstatically. He paused long enough for a declaration.

“This is perfection, man.” Then he buried himself in flavor again.

“You’re right. This is the perfect spot,” the second flea agreed as he hunkered down between two dark hairs to drink his fill.

Day 23: New View

“Cordelia,” I call, hoping my new best friend will answer.

I get no response so I fly closer to the water, feeling droplets spray my wings as a tiny fish leaps clear of his domain to grab one of my lovely feathers. I glance down to reassure myself that this isn’t a new game for Cordelia and I. The nibbler proves unfamiliar. His jaws clamp onto me with surprising power. His weight proves more than my wings can keep aloft. Water seeps past my feathers to soak through to my skin, pulling me further down.

But what a view as I look up toward the sun through a lens of water. Its rays filter down to me with a softer, skewed intensity that mesmerizes me. My captor realizes his mistake and lets go of me, but I forget to seek air for a moment as I take in how different the world is from from down below.

Then something bumps into me from below. I find myself rising until I gasp for breath above the water. Looking down, I see Cordelia’s golden scales beneath my feet.

“Silly,” she burbles, “Don’t let the beauty underwater lure you to your death.”

Day 24: Relief

Without eyes to see, the old man learned long ago not to trust his first impression. Thus he reached out his hands again to feel the surface of the wall. Someone carved a mural that even he could appreciate and he wanted to show gratitude by memorizing each rise and fall along the stone.

He recognized the image easily. The main figure of the piece held his arms out to his side while his feet were positioned one atop each other. A nailhead of stone assured the viewer that this man would have no trouble holding his feet in this position. Above his head, a stone sun beat down, adding to the torment of a plaited circlet of thorns already creasing the man’s forehead. He traced each detail, feeling his heart swell with both shame and gratitude each time his nimble fingers retraced the image.

On his third pass, his fingers slipped and he discovered a message clearly carved below the main body of the mural. This one, he knew was intended for someone especially like him. Carefully etched in braille, it read:

“You are loved!”

Day 25: The Good Gal

Hello, my kitties. 

It is purrfect that you could join me tonight. The old people here tire of my stories though I have enough for eight lifetimes.

I know you’re just here for one though. I can tell by all your bright little faces. You want to hear about the bat. Meow.

I have no tales of his heroics, but if you care to listen, I can tell you how that villain purr-secuted meow. I see you don’t like me saying that. That’s your loss. 

Just remember that no matter what they tell you, the good ones are always gals.

Purr.

Day 26: Is This Real?

How did John get here? How did this become his real life? He couldn’t remember. He also couldn’t recall whether these berries were poisonous or not. His stomach rumbled, begging to try just one and see. But he knew he couldn’t just try one because saliva already drips down his jowls like an overly excited Saint Bernard.

“I’ve got to figure out how to get out of here,” he muttered under his breath as he walked away from the tempting bushes and their bright red fruit.

As he got out of view of temptation, drumbeats began pounding like a heartbeat through the forest. He sighed but quickened his pace and headed toward that hypnotizing sound. As his syncopated footsteps led him to his destination, others joined him. When the last resident of the small island arrived, the drums stopped and a chipper voice echoed through the clearing.

“You all know what time it is. It’s time to vote.”

One by one, they entered a small tent erected on one side of the clearing and spoke to the man behind the curtain there. Then they returned to stand in quiet anxiety on the carefully manicured sand. Finally, the voice boomed once more.

“Sorry, John, you didn’t survive the day. You’ve been voted off the island.”

As others feigned expressions of sympathy, John held back his own burgeoning excitement. He tilted his head to the ground as if defeated. Two men appeared from the brush, carrying spears.

“Time to go,” one of them said as he reached for John’s elbow.

“Yes, sir,” he whispered almost inaudibly as he fell into step.

Inside, he screamed, “Free at last!”

Day 27: Confused

Mel had promised herself she would never be sucked in by a puzzle again. But here she stood in the middle of a giant maze. She snarled. Off to her left, her clueless date taunted her.

“Marco,” Earl called out.

“I am never letting Chas set me up on a blind date again,” she responded.

Earl laughed, “Come on. She told me you love puzzles. Come find me and we’ll have dinner.”

“You think I am going out to dinner with you after this?” She muttered under her breath and headed away from his voice.

She didn’t bother responding to the rest of his calls. Instead, she focused on getting back to the entryway. Luckily, all the years when she had still loved working out ciphers and puzzles served her well. She startled the clerk at the entrance as she popped out of the opening behind him.

“You’re supposed to leave the other way,” he informed her in a bored voice, “If you want a medal…”

“Yeah. Well, this was supposed to be fun,” she replied as she fished keys out of her pocket, “If you see my date, tell him I said thanks for letting me drive.”

“Sure. Sure,” he waved limply at her and returned his attention to the screen of his phone.

He didn’t bother to look up as she pulled out of the lot with a squeal of tires that came right as Chas answered the phone.

“What was that?”

“Me leaving the horrible date you set me up on.”

“Sorry. Mark insisted I fix his cousin up with someone. I figured you’d set Eric straight and get me out of any more hookups.”

Mel snorted, “If it helps, tell him I forbid you from any more set-ups.”

Then she hung up and headed toward home by way of her favorite fast food restaurant.

Day 28: Devotion

“I’d give anything for you,” her own words echoed through her ears as she stared down at her daughter’s weeping form.

She leaned over to envelope the frail body in her own, but Sadie didn’t respond. The weeping and the pain owned her now. They remained like this, entwined, for a few more minutes. Then a nurse stepped forward to take Mama’s arm.

“It’s time,” she said softly.

“I know. I know.”

Terror gripped her. She’d be asleep for the procedure, but she made the mistake of researching the process. Her mind filled with images of that massive needle even now. She’d barely held it together for the blood draws to make sure she was a match. She didn’t know if she could handle knowing something so much larger would penetrate her hip, potentially again and again. With one last glance over her shoulder at her sweet daughter, she steeled her resolve and followed the nurse into her oldest nightmare.