Today’s Friday Fiction was inspired by the folks over at Flash! Friday. Enjoy! And please feel free to share your thoughts.
Rose licked the berry juice from her hands.
They were especially plump and juicy. The reddish purple juice would flood from some of them so quickly she barely had time to catch it before it streamed down her arm and stained her white shirt sleeve.
Rose wondered if the stories were true. If you eat the berries you would die. She quickly popped one in her mouth and discovered it was the most sinfully delicious thing she had ever eaten.
She heard a boom in the distance and suddenly her white tunic and pants were covered in crimson red. Her bare feet began to feel warm. Looking at her feet she discovered she was standing in a reddish purple puddle.
Where was this coming from? No one else was around. She felt a warm steam down her leg. At that moment she realized the puddle was her own blood. She fell to the ground and smiled.
The Sea Horse. Photo and sculpture by Jeffro Uitto; used by permission.
This is all Jess has left of her husband, father, and brother, her boys as she called them.
They worked on the sculpture of her favorite childhood horse for nearly a year. Her father would inevitably find something wrong with it. And in the beginning Alex, Jess’s husband, never saw the problem.
For as long as I can remember I’ve been a fighter. I fought my mother in utero. According to her whenever she smoked, I would kick the living daylights out of her till it hurt. I fought death at a mere 18 months and again some 30 years later. Fought my own battles with teachers and school administrators.
I remember a meeting with one teacher and my parents and she said that I was insolent. I had no idea what that meant, so when I got home I looked it up.