Death | a little bird tweets

Oct 31 2013

Fragility

Petals, a million shades of rose, lay frozen-in-time, upon the cemetery’s frost-laden grounds. Tomorrow, heartless feet will crush them; turn them into russet particles. Their dying breath will emit rancid vapours into the air, as they succumb to the earth. And, beyond the borders of the cemetery, people will look to the skies; sing the lyrics of summers’ song. Smiling faces, embracing sunlight; unaware that decay is a fraction away.

Tagged 70 Words, Breath, Cemetery, Creative Writing, Death, decay, Dying, Faces, Feet, Fiction, Flash fiction, Fragile, Frozen, Heartless, Life, Lyrics, Petal, Psychological-horror, Psychological-thriller, Short Story, Song, Succumb, Sunlight, Up to 100 Words

Oct 15 2013

13 Comments

Flash Fiction

Immortal Love

She narrates a passage from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet; and her heart simmers as he watches her lips, with his ancient eyes.

‘A tragic story, my love,’ he says, brushing his fingers over the calligraphic text.

He bends to kiss her. She gasps, and feels blood trail down her neck. She watches it drip onto the page and expand like large ink spots.

‘You’re now immortal; and my death will shortly follow,’ he says.

He falls to the floor; and she watches his face turn pastel.

And on this day, every thousand years, she lights a candle in his memory.

Tagged 100 Words, 1000 Years, Blood, Book, Candle, Creative Writing, Death, Eyes, Fiction, Flash fiction, Heart, Immortal, Ink, Kiss, Life, Memory, Neck, Page, Pastel, Psychological-horror, Psychological-thriller, Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare, Short Story, Tragedy, Vampire

Sep 27 2013

10 Comments

Flash Fiction

Wiped Out

In the past few days, the sun has produced a landscape of burnt, unyielding trees, here on earth. There is no sign of life. No birdsong. No dragonfly drones. No vivid flowers. As evening haze begins to tangle around branches, Shelby’s vision begins to wane, and he stumbles to the ground. In the first minutes of his stillness, he begins to sweat furiously. He smears his bare arms with dry earth, to cool them, and to help protect them from burning. As he does, he notices his skin has become translucent, and his bones are making a callous attempt to perforate his skin. He knows it’s a sign that his body is succumbing to this earth. He stands up, and continues to tread the rough terrain, in his wild search for water.

Tagged Arms, Birdsong, Bones, Burnt, Creative Writing, Dead, Death, Dehydration, Dragonfly, Extinction, Fiction, Flower, Global Warming, Humanity, Life, Psychological-horror, Psychological-thriller, Skin, sun, Survival, Sweat, Terrain, Tree, Up to 130 Words, Water

Aug 24 2013

26 Comments

Flash Fiction

Afterlife

My senses are more profound in the spirit world. Today I hover above my gravestone and listen to melodious birdsong. I watch sunbeams saturate the cemetery in ethereal pallor. I suddenly sense the familiar saccharine scent of white carnation, and I turn to see my wife standing before my grave, holding a white bouquet.

“Life is dreadful. I miss you dearly,” she whispers.

She lays the bouquet upon my grave and sobs into a tissue. She walks away. I try to pull her back, to console her, but my hands pass through her. She disappears. And I’m left heartbroken.

Tagged 100 Words, Afterlife, Birdsong, Bouquet, Carnation, Cemetery, Creative Writing, Death, Fiction, Flash fiction, Ghost, Gravestone, Heart, Psychological-horror, Psychological-thriller, Senses, Spirit

Apr 21 2013

9 Comments

Flash Fiction

Elsie

Elsie swirled the teacup around in her crumpled, conical hands; working the tea-leaves into a symbol. She had provided readings for many people over many years; it had given them an insight into their future.

‘What can you see, Elsie?’ The young woman asked.

‘My dear, I saw my own face merged with a skull. The skull is a symbol of demise. I am going to die very soon.’

The woman trembled at Elsie’s words. As she became pinned to her chair with fear, she witnessed Elsie’s face contort; her eyes bulge and her head slither slowly to the table.

Tagged 100 Words, Chair, Death, Demise, Eyes, Face, Fiction, Hands, Psychological-horror, Psychological-thriller, Readings, Skull, Symbol, Table, Tea-cup, Tea-leaf, Tea-leaves, Writing

Sep 30 2012

4 Comments

Flash Fiction

The Letter

I stagger along the tree-arched footpath; the bronze light through decaying trees no doubt casting cracked contours upon my face. I take a swig from the bottle. I seek the nearest bench and curl up on its mouldy slats. I eye every passing stranger who looks at me with fear and disgust. I must look vile. I abandon the thought and take out the torn notepaper from my pocket; a letter that he’d left upon the kitchen table for me to find, one year ago. I read it for what must be the billionth time; each and every word causing my heart to bleed, my soul to cry.

My dearest Sally,

I spoke with the doctor today. He said I only have three months to live.

I am devastated. I am lost. I need to run.

I cannot let you see me deteriorate every day.

I want you to remember me for who I am.

I am headed to a place far from here; the sea shall wash away the pain.

Please do not look for me.

I will always love you my angel.

Our love will never die.

Smile your beautiful smile, always.

Your husband,

Charlie.

I take another swig from the bottle, close my eyes, and fall into stagnation.

Tagged abandon, alcohol, bench, Death, doctor, footpath, Heart, letter, Love, Psychological-horror, Psychological-thriller, Sea, Up to 250 Words

Jun 01 2012

2 Comments

Flash Fiction

Lydia

Lydia, as I sit in our garden, I am reminded of you. The orange-blossom scent of the tree, the one you planted two years ago, does so echo the deceitful musky fragrance of your skin. I wonder if the roots have consumed your ashes, and if your scent has been carried up through the branches to be radiated out through the buds. The thought of your scent fusing with the Spring oxygen, leaves me sickly. Tomorrow, at dawn, I shall chop the tree; that once was a symbol of our love. John.