Saturday, October 16, 2010
Unleash
The prompt for this week: Unleash
Every night she comes to the same place to view the same painting. It seems to have a hold on her like a siren call that leads sailors to their doom. Not that the painting has ever brought her any misfortune. It is just a painting after all.
The crisp air that night brought a chill down her spine. She loves walking along the boulevard and watching the different strange faces. She likes to think that someday one of these strangers could be a part of her life.
Tonight she is coming in later than her usual time. Instead of her usual two hours, she barely has thirty minutes for her nightly ritual.
There's only a handful of people at this late hour in the museum. She prefers it that way as she gets to have the privacy she wants with her favorite painting.
The white boat against the seascape brings her a certain calm. It seems so real that she sometimes feel that if she touch the painting, she'll be able to feel the grainy texture of the wood and the cold temperature of the water. She even sometimes fancy that she can hear the birds flying overhead.
The sudden flicker of the light startled her from her reverie. She looked around but she's still alone. Suddenly, she heard a gush of water and when she turned back to the painting, the boat is gone! She looked down and she saw water at her feet and a small white boat floating around. She shook her head trying to clear her sight. The feel of the cold water at her feet caused goosebumps to appear on her arms.
A loud bang echoed at the back of the museum and she suddenly fell down the seat she was sleeping on. She looked up at the painting. The boat is still there. It was just a dream.
She stood up to leave as the museum is about to close. As she fumbles to get her purse, she felt something cold touch her feet. Her skirt is wet and has water mark around it. And she swears she can smell the ocean follow her all the way to her home.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Princesses Can Be Bullies Too
People think of bullies as someone who are bigger, older. Someone who can physically hurt another and uses that power to bully someone else...
-
The prompt for this week: My Nights A few years back, I was in São Paulo, Brazil on assignment for a month. We have a few local colleagu...
-
The words for this week are: Icy Pause Train A secret revealed in the heat of the moment His icy look is like a dagger in my heart I walk aw...
-
The words for this week are: Picture Reflected Stop Picture Perfect. The cliché just popped into his mind when he saw her. The face of a w...
8 comments:
Wonderful flash fiction! I love how you do the paragraphs... much easier to read. And the woman that felt the waves on the floor... LOL.
A very interesting take on the prompt, and a delightful ending!
I thought this was wonderful! :-)
Some paintings are just like that. They invite you to step inside and open your senses to other realities. Your story captures that reality well,
Elizabeth
That was a stunning piece of fiction. I see the whole thing in your writing even if the prompt had not been there. Wonderful.
Such a lonely line - "She likes to think that someday one of these strangers could be a part of her life."
Amazing...you followed the prompt directly and nicely. Well done!
Cheers.
What an excellent idea to bring the painting to life. I'm glad her skirt was wet, or I would have been disappointed!
ViV
Post a Comment