Category Flash Fiction

Bound – SoCS May 7/16

freyathewriter 9 Comments

 

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Cassandra was the heir-apparent to the empire. Everyone accepted that to be true, except Cassandra herself. All she wanted was to retire to her garret (as she fondly thought of her sumptuous apartments atop the North Tower), don her scribbling gown, and write as if her life depended on it. Which, in her mind, it did.

Every day on awakening, she stole a few solitary minutes to admire her ink-stained fingers, ponder what her protagonist would achieve today and know that no matter what she imagined, he would never quite attain it because of her damned looming responsibilities.

Her lady’s maid was full of it, vicarious excitement flushing her cheeks and adding fire to her normally dull, dark eyes. Cassandra however, couldn’t care less. No, that wasn’t quite right, she cared a great deal. Just not in the way that everyone else wanted.

This week, the lovely Linda has prompted us to write using either ‘a parent’ or ‘apparent’. I think it’s pretty apparent which choice I made!

Please head on over to Linda’s blog to find out what Stream of Consciousness Saturday is all about and of course, to enjoy the other entries, including Linda’s herself! Thank you, Linda, for the inspiration!

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The art of dying

freyathewriter 4 Comments

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“I’ve only had one affair. She should count herself lucky.”

Needless to say, I choked on my coffee. Who wouldn’t? It’s not the kind of thing you expect to hear in a village coffee shop on a Sunday afternoon. Is it?

I dabbed my lips with the edge of my napkin, sneaking a quick look at the two men sitting at the table next to mine. Large cappucinos – check. Pains au chocolat – check. Deceptively understated chunky knit sweaters – check. Levis, artfully worn at the seams  – check. Floppy dark hair, slices of silver gray enhancing rugged good looks – check.

The usual suspects.

The speaker’s confidant nodded in agreement. “Damn right she should.”

I couldn’t help myself. In two ticks I was by their side, towering over their conspiratorial forms. They looked up in unison, shadows of guilt passing over their faces. I’d seen it before, but in entirely different surroundings. Big city pubs and bars were more my usual haunts, but needs must.

“Only one affair?” I demanded, trying to hide my grin. The question always put them on the back foot.

“Err, yeah. Not that it’s any of your business,” The Cheater, caught unawares turned defensive.

“Oh don’t worry! I’m not judging – except that really, if you’re going to cheat once, you might as well do it again and again and again. Carry on where you left off, right?” I let the question hang in the air, watching confusion reign over both of them.

“Piss off, love, why don’t you. My marriage is none of your business.” The Cheater made as if to stand up and I backed off.

“OK, OK. I’m going…”

I backed off, and sat down at my table again, making like I was absorbed in a phone call. I’d have made a fantastic actress.

“Biggest mistake of my life, Andy, to be honest. Once is once too often, I reckon.”

The Confidant nodded in agreement once more. “Yeah mate, she’s a good one, your Sarah.”

My work was done.

SoCS March 26/16 – real

freyathewriter 4 Comments

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‘The truth of the matter is that there is no one reality. We all see and remember events through the filter of our own perception’.

Callie remembered when she heard that bald statement as a rookie, a wet behind the ears, oh so very green new recruit at the Security Force training college. It was far too many years ago now to even want to remember how young she had been then, but it still resonated every time she sat down in the windowless room to scrutinise the latest batch of security footage.

Once upon a time, the films had been grainy and only rendered in colour if you were lucky, with no sound at all. Many places were blind spots, with no security cameras in evidence for vast swathes of the country. Now, highly detailed sound and vision was the order of the day, every street, every field, every mountain recorded for posterity. Yes, actual posterity. There was no escape. The media lauded the fact that this sceptred isle was by far the most surveilled place on earth, that no crime would ever go unpunished again, for even the sacred space of home was on the record. All citizens were safe. Apparently.

Callie sighed, rubbing her gritty eyes in frustration. This wasn’t what she had trained for. This didn’t fit her admittedly naive idea of truth and justice.

Yes, the cameras filmed everyone, everywhere. But perception, reason, justification, reality meant nothing to these digital, soulless entities. They couldn’t understand or interpret human emotion. A camera was judge, jury and executioner these days. So much for innocent until proven guilty.

She took a deep breath, and turned off the camera scrutinising her as she worked. She had 3 minutes to destroy the footage she was analysing. Enough was enough. Their reality was no longer hers.

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Here’s this week’s entry into Stream of Consciousness Saturday! Those who know my writing, will understand that often as not, I like to head to the dark side. I think that this qualifies!

Please head on over to Linda’s blog to read all the delicious creativity that can be found there.

Thank you once again to Linda for creating this vibrant community!