Flash Fiction for The Purposeful Practitioner: The Price


When I removed the contents from my tote-bag, I was perturbed to see a tattered book inside.“I could see the corner of folded yellow parchment sticking out of the torn lining of the battered book.” 

“What’s this?” I whispered. Instantly, I heard chanting. In my mind I pictured two woman murmering magic with candles in a circle around them. It was as if the image had been placed in my mind.

Suddenly, the parchment opened in front of me. Oddly, the symbols on the parchment made sense to me. The parchment was a spell for immortality. I had no time to think, the words of the incantation flew from my lips:

Live forever, consequences well known,

Speak the words, let your time now cease flow,

Your string never snipped, fate overlooked you,

Alone, you will wander, the cost is many souls.

When I stopped chanting, the parchment and the book had disappeared. My boyfriend stomped in the front door. Before I gave him a hello kiss, he said: ” Something about you is different.” Then I kissed him hungrily and he disintegrated in my hands. I burst into tears and I learned the price of eternal life — my kiss was the kiss of death.

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http://www.publicdomainarchives.com
 

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Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting this Flash Fiction challenge.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

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Poetry: She That Went Away


These words can’t be unsaid, she pondered over fourth cup of coffee.
They are the words that needed to be heard or else her thoughts would go round a Ferris wheel of phrases
Making her old, her mind as dusty parchment crumbling and from Rome
One touch to the parchment and the entire piece powders and falls a part
All knowledge of that particular subject lost in the spaces and edges existing in time.
It was about persuasion, the way she had to say it to form the words as curvatures connected like handwriting.
The staccato breath puffing from her lips, poison ivy to what needed to be said being told.
Awake my soul and sing, the things I mutter that cannot be unspoken, make them warm and lovely
Find a better way of saying – I’m going away and will not be returning.
Find a tangible way to express the moments of fragility this will leave everyone with.
The cold stab of words, oh yes words can hurt, the sharpest all the quicker.
And the phone rung a harsh ring in the phonetic tongue.
I cannot answer calls right now, for I have gone to Icarus and I cannot return.
I am lost to the sun it will burn my rapid wing span.
Some words can’t go unsaid, they must be told.
Regretted and mourned.
For that part of her life was over and only smiles remained.
The darkest hour turning to the blazing dawn as she admitted her most horrible fears and with them became one.