Missing

He stood on the edge and breathed. His eyes closed, he felt the wind against his cheeks, the cement under his feet, and the emptiness in front of him, pulling at him like an eager lover.

He heard the screeches of tiers, the laughter of children, and the honk of horns. The city throbbed around, a living, pulsing organism.

Whispers and shouts rose up from below. People were watching him.

They were waiting for him to fall.

His heard pounded in his chest. It had to be now, before someone came up to stop him. Before he lost his courage.

A thought rushed through his mind – Flying is just throwing yourself at the ground and missing. He smiled.

And stepped out into nothing.

He felt the wind against his cheeks, the air under his feet, and the emptiness around him.

He opened his eyes and laughed.

He was flying.

---

Word Count: 149

This is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to Priceless Joy for running the challenge and Grant-Sud for providing the prompt photo!

Advertisements

A Dance in the Dark

Brooke’s feet pounded the pavement as she raced under the shadowy sea of dark clouds.

Behind her, the people danced, a whirling storm of limbs around the death-like figure who grew larger with each passing instant. The sway of the dance was like a storm.

Brooke drew a silver shard from her pocket.

Holding it high, she reflected the light of the Moon into the heart of the dance. The figure hissed, the light shining straight through it.

The dance ended.

The dancers drifted away as if in a haze, unaware of the shadow that had passed over them.

---

Word Count: 99

This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Dale Rogerson for providing the prompt photo!

Pale Hands at Midnight

At midnight, she rummaged through the dumpster with long, pale, mud-stained fingers. All around her, other shadowy people were doing the same, their saucer-wide eyes watching for a sign of the Abovefolk.

She chanced upon two bears and a doll, neglected and forgotten. Taking them in her arms, she carried them Beneath, where all the forgotten things go.

Down in the deep, amongst mud and stone, along the twisting halls of Underneath, the children of the Underfolk play. Sometimes they laugh so loudly that you can hear them above, the faintest whisper of a giggle hanging in the quiet air.

---

Word Count: 100

This is for Friday Fictioners. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Karuna for the prompt photo!

Fan-Voted Story: Part 4

What? It’s back?

Yes, that’s right! Part 4 of the Fan-Voted Story is back with a vengeance.

Unfortunately, no one voted last time, so I continued on my own. So, if you want to help shape the story about what is going to happen to Kayla, please vote down below. If you like someone’s suggestion, like it! I’ll choose the highest voted suggestion or, if there isn’t one, the suggestion that I like best.

If you want to catch up with the story, please go to the Evan Elias section of the Living Author’s Society page.

Back to the action!

Fan Voted Story: Part 3

Hello everybody!

It’s been a long time coming but Part 3 of my Fan Voted Story is here!

The winning suggestion from last time was made by Mandibelle16. Thank you for the suggestion that the ring was dark magic and there were consequences for using it.

If you need to catch up on the story, feel free to go back on the Evan Elias section of the Living Author’s Society page. While you’re at it, feel free to check some of the other authors as well, they’re very talented.

As always, please comment down below about what you think should happen and what you thought. The winning comment will dictate where the story goes from here!

Now, without further ado, let the story continue…

Secret Things

When he had captured the unicorn, he’d thought it would make him rich, that all the world would know his name, but it hadn’t taken long for him to learn the truth.

He had brought it before the television presenters, all those cameras staring, all those faces, and it had flickered like an old television until they could not see it at all.

That had been when he’d understood: secret things can only live in shadows and can only be seen in the corner of your eye.

---

This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Fleur Treurniet for providing the prompt photo!

Breaking the Contract

He watched from the shadows as they came with their machines and their axes and their ropes, cutting and grabbing and pulling. The tree groaned and shrieked, but they kept on, tearing at it until it toppled in a storm of green needles. They cheered, their voices carrying through the still air to the silent place where he waited, folded like origami in the dark.

They had broken the deal, these little humans, the deal sealed long ago with an acorn and old bones. The living contract was being hauled across cement, dragged away to be unceremoniously hacked apart, all just to build another parking lot, another cold temple to commercialism.

He tapped knife-sharp nails together as he unfolded from his hiding place, slipping from shadow to shadow, unseen by living eye.

They had broken the contract and now he was free to do as he pleased.

---

Word Count: 147

This is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to Priceless Joy for running the challenge and Shivangi Singh for providing the prompt photo!