The hairs on my arm lift with the breeze; a haunting breath from the open window carrying night-scented stock from the black-shrouded garden. I smile, a self-indulgent smile, and submerge myself in the memory of his touch, his soft caress and his silken words whispered in my ear; "I love you." I hear his murmured promise; "I'll never leave." And beneath the cool cotton of the duvet, I wallow in the cashmere wrap of love.
I allow myself another indulgence and pull my arm back beneath the downy lightness and let my fingers meander across the mattress, slide over the sheet and negotiate the rucks and runnels made by our loving. My hand reaches the cold outer edges of my world.
He's not here.
My eyes snap open. But it doesn't help. The night is black, and besides, I know. I lie and listen, motionless. I strain my ears.
Nothing.
I sit up and turn on the light. It doesn't help.
And then, the flick of a switch. Or was it the snitch of a latch? A cool breeze runs along the narrow hallway, lifting the hairs on my arms.
He's gone.
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In spring 2011 I woke one morning and this, my first piece of flash fiction, came to me in a flash! It's still one of my favourites.
so sad! and very well written. it was brave to end the piece with what is obvious, "he's gone" and it works, when it usually doesn't. fave.
"...open window carrying night-scented stock from the black-shrouded garden."
"... I wallow in the cashmere wrap of love."
above are examples of my pleasure in reading these passages, their exactness. *
Strong writing - "I allow myself another indulgence and pull my arm back beneath the downy lightness and let my fingers meander across the mattress, slide over the sheet and negotiate the rucks and runnels made by our loving. My hand reaches the cold outer edges of my world."
Great read and form. Enjoyed. *
I love the how the breeze of cashmere self-indulgence starts this and the breeze of hallway emptiness ends it. *
"the snitch of a latch" lovely turn of phrase. great.
"the snitch of a latch" lovely turn of phrase. great.
Thank you all for your lovely comments - so rewarding from this esteemed community which I'm delighted to have joined. I'm looking forward to reading your work too.
Love this Deborah! Anyone who works "runnels" in there is a winner! "And then, the flick of a switch. Or was it the snitch of a latch?" Nice! ****
Great piece, his leaving not entirely unexpected after the soulful start. Most impressed by the wording, love "flick of a switch...snitch of a latch". Noticed how you come back to the initial image, which creates a good, strong arc under which the story can huddle.
A luxurious beginning and a bleak ending, emphasised to great effect by the balancing image of the breeze. I love this!
Oh, I have so been there...
"I wallow in the cashmere wallop of love." Like the line.
Thank you Meg, Marcus, Mandy, Lucile and Damion for taking the time to pass on your kind comments and observations.
Marvelous.
fav
This might work better as a poem. I don't know a great deal about poetry, but this has that feel to it. Abstract. Not completely clear.
Ah yes! Where the line between prose and poetry? Thanks so much for your comments, and for faving it, James!
I can see this as a poem as well. My work often seems somewhere between the two. But I loved this story as is also. Very sad, relatable, wonderful writing.
Fave.
Masterful storytelling and an adept use of language- 'rucks and runnels'..... 'snitch of a latch'.
Bravo!