BWI Flash Fiction – October 2019

Hi all, here are our five entries for this month. Voting closes at 11.59 this coming Sunday. Your vote will provide a valuable guide for the judge.

1          Mythical Romance

Every blade a dew drops vessel,

To reflect the stark white moon,

All that glitters in the stillness,

While the eves melodic tune,

Plays it’s symphony of 

intrigue,

Softly tempting those who chance,

To step upon that crisp damp green

Where night-time fairies dance.

Each one caught up in the fancy,

Of a mythical romance.

They are there but no-one sees them,

Not the women or the child,

Not the calm well meaning old man

Or the rebel boy so wild.

In the midnight mist they breath there,

Moving amongst the game,

Knowing all the while,

That there mischief won’t be tamed. 

So their silent secret lingers

And the merriment remains.

2                                              .fairies.

All that glitters is not gold is a saying that my parents used to use all the time when speaking about fairies and it is true. Fairies are masters of deception and tricks of the mind. They may not be able to lie but the can make you see things that are not real. They can make you see horrors that will send you to madness or make you see beauties beyond your wildest dreams. So always be careful when dealing with fairies.

3                                              Harvey’s Gilded Tomb…

Harvey Leach was promoted to Creative Director, with leading ad-brands to manage.  But his partners at Bastings-Shelldrake never guessed his true ‘inspiration’.

He had been stalking poets for years, to fillet and ‘monetise’, poor flatheads.

Life was a hard race, and ‘integrity’ for wimps and losers.  Everything was for sale, including love, wisdom, sincerity: just ‘flag words’, commodities.

His own early scribbles were securely locked in a drawer.

Still asleep at 2am, Harvey floated back to his younger self, the poet now buried in a shallow grave, suffocating forever.

Harvey woke with a start, sobbing faintly.

Such promise, potential, all gone!

4          Same Old Story

He sat slumped across the table, snivelling, snot running from his nose. I squirmed in my seat.

‘For god’s sake, wipe your bloody nose,’ I snapped.  He was clearly a broken man. I relented a little, asked him what had happened.

He mumbled through his sorry tale. She was the love of his life, dazzling, glitzy, sexy – up for a good time. Then she fleeced him of his money and took off.

‘Mate, you’re not the first to fall for ‘all that glitters is gold’ crap.’

I shook my head. ‘Believe me, I know – gaze at that glitter long enough, you end up blind.’

I tossed him my handkerchief. He’d learn.

5          Our 42nd date.

We stopped during our stroll through the park. Michael was like none I’d met before. My heart started racing as his knee caressed the earth. It had only been 3 months. Watching his hand slip into his jacket I silently mouthed, “yes”.

I froze as he pulled his hand out.

It glittered in the moon light.

The look in his eye, I’d never seen before.

My heart skipped a beat as he reached between my legs. It may have been dark but we were in a public park.

As I felt the vibrations reverberate up my thigh I dared to turn my head to look behind.

It was a kill shot.

 

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