Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response under 300 word (recommended, not law). You can write a story, poem, essay, anything which strikes your fancy. I will re-blog posts to my site.
Chris stood by the blow-up pony, baseball cap pulled across his forehead. Beside him, Nancy tucked her hand inside his elbow. “You’ve made a little girl the happiest in the world.”
“What good is money if it doesn’t bring happiness?”
“You, Christin Allen, are just a big softie.”
He laughed. “That would ruin my rep.”
“Damn right.” He slid an arm around her, pulling her against his side. “I’ll prove that to you later.” Grinned.
Her stomach fluttered. Even after almost a year and a half, she still couldn’t believe Chris…. cared about her? Love? She didn’t know. He’d never said he loved her, but his actions pointed towards the fact. Still, she wouldn’t let herself believe anything beyond caring, not wanting to get hurt if he did, one day, just walk away.
She leaned against him, welcoming the warmth of his body – his touch, his smile, the wicked gleam in his eyes – even in the midst of a Kentucky summer vacation.
Ginny galloped up, waving a plastic horse in the air.
“Look who I got, Uncle Chris!” she yelled. “Look!”
“Careful,” her mother called from behind, “Don’t take out an eye.”
She giggled, settling down as much as an 8-year-old could in fantasy-land.
Chris took the plastic pony and examined it closely. “Fine looking bit of horse-plastic,” he told her. “What’s its name?”
“Chris’ Flight of Fancy.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? Well, I’ll expect him to be the best horse around.”
Cradling the toy against her chest, she nodded solemnly. “He will be, I promise.”
“Or the randiest,” Nancy whispered in his ear.
He looked at her. “Oh, you are so going to get it for that.”
“At least, it’s a stallion.”
Ginny grabbed his hand. “Come on, Uncle Chris, I want to see the Pony Barn.”
Letting her pull him away, he raised a hand in farewell to mother and daughter, happily following the little girl across the park.
There was a light! I was, frankly, amazed. I’ve never believed. Why would I? Who the hell would believe that when one died, or almost died, they would see a light to heaven? Or, hell, depending.
I trudged through the ankle-deep water, leaving behind only ripples. Memories of my lost body.
Would anybody miss me? Probably not. I hadn’t made many friends in my life. I hadn’t wanted them. Friends are nothing but trouble. If I hadn’t had to see them or interact with them, I would have loved friends. that, however, was not to be.
No loss. I didn’t have time for them anyway. Didn’t have time for anybody, but myself. Why should I? What had they done for me?
Nearing the end of the tunnel, I slowed, not sure I wanted to continue.
A figure materialized out of the light; a man in a glowing white robe and a golden halo across his brow. I could see a long beard, but nothing of his face. The light was too intense.
“It is not your time,” he said, voice a soft breeze
“I’m here now for, Christ’s sake.”
“It is not your time .”
“Then why the hell did your crash my car?”
I stamped forward, but the man faded as he had come, leaving me in near darkness, my only exit behind. Muttering, I turned and stomped out of the tunnel, suddenly floating downwards, back into my body.
When I awoke, in a dark hospital room, the nurse smiled at her. “How are you feeling, Ms. Jackson?”
I almost smiled, then remember. “Like shit,” I growled. “Get the hell out of my room.”
He didn’t want to see her dead or alive, but dead was definitely more vexing. More vexing still was the fact that he saw her when he looked into the mirror. He was her; she was him. Confusing as hell.
He stared at her image on his face, clamping down on the panic rising in his chest. A bad dream. This was all a bad dream. A really, really, really bad dream.
“No, darling, it isn’t,” her voice said from his mouth. “You know I promised never to leave you.”
“You can, you know,” he said in her voice. “I don’t mind.”
“No, darling. We will be together forever.”
Grabbing up a candlestick, he smashing the mirror, shards falling like rain. Smashed all the mirrors in the house,
No more mirrors. He would never look in a mirror again.
Still, he felt her molded to his face, growing into him, becoming him. Felt her thoughts merging with his like some symbiotic alien eating him alive from the inside.
Before he lost himself forever, he sliced his throat with one of the shards of glass. Watched her bleed out of his body and into the night.