Deluge – Five Sentence Fiction

July 20, 2014freyathewriter 12 Comments

The raindrops pelt my hair, my face, my arms, my hands until I am drenched.

I stand in the empty street, arms outstretched, palms turned upwards, embracing the clouds above.

I know eyes are watching me from behind nets, behind doors held slightly ajar and deep in the shadows just out of reach of the streetlight’s glare.

I know they are whispering behind hands and underneath raised eyebrows – to them I am the woman who has lost her mind with grief, for nobody sane stands in the street, in the rain, in her nightgown.

But I do – it is a relief to feel something other than the weight of profound loss – it is a relief to feel so refreshed.

Reticence – Magpie Tales

June 15, 2014freyathewriter 30 Comments

Not To Be Reproduced, 1937, Rene Magritte

Christophe folded his clothes, laying them out on his bed before placing them in his suitcase, precisely and methodically. So it had ever been.

He did not need to turn from his to task for the exact layout of the room to be available to his memory. Burnished mahogany armoire to his left, ornate chest of drawers in the recess next to the fireplace and elegant sash windows to his right. The deep sash windows, each lower pane lifted precisely six inches to allow a healthy breeze to refresh the stale air, were dressed in elegant plum brocade curtains.

Nothing had changed since he had left all those years ago.

“Monsieur?” His manservant stood in the doorway, hands open in enquiry.

“Oui, Gaston. I am ready.” Christophe snapped shut his case, locked it and pocketed the key.

“Will we be returning… after, monsieur?”

“Non, Gaston. I am here to do my filial duty, that is all. We will leave as soon as the service is complete and the mourners have left. They expect nothing more, nothing less.” Christophe stared at Gaston, daring him to comment.

Gaston said nothing.

The father and son had not spoken in twenty five years, and now Monsieur Clement the elder was dead.

If they had anything to say to each other, it was too late now.

——

Here’s my latest entry to Magpie Tales. I have been fascinated with Magritte’s art since discovering him as a teenager – my step-Dad has a book of his art on the bookshelves at home. ‘Ceci n’est pas une pipe’ was my favourite, partly because of the play on words. This story is certainly not reflective of my relationship with my step-Dad, thank goodness! I thought there was something mournful about this painting, hence the tone of my piece.

I hope you enjoyed this, do let me know what you think.

Spliced – Magpie Tales

June 8, 2014freyathewriter 18 Comments

– Spliced –

Harry stared at the reels as they whizzed round and round, the tale of the finished tape hitting the playback heads at each turn. He had lost track of how long it had been since the recording had finished, how many times he had splashed whisky into his glass, how many times the phone had rung, rung, rung and then stopped, only to begin again a few moments later.

It had been an impulse buy. He had always wanted a vintage quarter track recorder – it reminded him of growing up, of a happy home, of his parents. It reminded him of a time when his life was simple.

The man in the second-hand shop had called him back just as he was leaving. Harry could remember the feel of the smooth, slightly dented brass doorknob under his fingers as he paused and looked back.

“’Ere, mate. You might as well ‘ave these, free gratis like. I ain’t got no use for ‘em.”

He brought the tapes back in an equally vintage Tesco carrier bag, turned inside out.

His wife had reacted strangely when she saw the machine set up on the dining table, even more so when he put the bulging old carrier bag next to it. Suddenly, she had to be anywhere but at home with him.

Now he knew why. He leaned forward and pressed the red ‘Stop’ button. Silence enveloped him.

The truth will out. Even after fifty years of marriage, there was always something new to learn about your wife.

——

Here’s my latest entry to Magpie Tales. Another fabulous photo prompt – I’d love to have and use one of these machines, although I’d hate to be in the same position as Harry….

I hope you enjoyed this, do let me know what you think!