Showing posts with label flash fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flash fiction. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 14, 2023

Sapphire the Snow Vixen

Sapphire was made out of Scottish Highlands snow, just before Hogmanay. She had wisps of Heather and Thistle tucked into her snowy head, along with two cerulean stones for her eyes; a piece of ebony coal for her nose. She was Winter Solstice and Yule and Hogmanay and The New Year all in one, come to life. She was the stuff of Scottish myth and legend; very few , mostly those with The Sight, actually knew that she existed. Morgana was one of those.

Morgana had been ostracized from the Scottish village that she had grown up in, branded as a witch. The villagers didn't like her different ways, and the fact that she seemed to know things that they thought she shouldn't. 

Morgana was still adjusting and adding comfort to the mountain cabin in which she had solace and invisibility from the aforementioned village. One morning, while she was foraging out by the frozen lake, in the cold winter morning air, she came across small footprints in the snow. The imprints made glistened with blue light, and Morgana's eyes lit up, for she knew who had made them. 

She returned to her cabin, where the fire she had built earlier was now burning warmly, and fixed a plate with lavender shortbread and heather honey, and poured a cup of juniper and mint wine. She returned to the pond, and placed the plate and cup near the shimmering blue footprints as an offering. Then she pulled her cloak around her against the cold wind, and returned to her warm cabin. 

Later that day, just  before the sun was going to begin setting, Morgana went out again, this time for some snow, as she wanted to cool some wine, fruit, and cheese for herself for dinner later. To her delight, she found the empty cup and plate where she had left them, with fresh blue footprints. She smiled to herself, filled the cup with freshly fallen snow, and returned to her cabin. 

For the next couple of mornings, she repeated the shortbread, honey, and wine offering that she left by the frozen lake, and returned each afternoon to find the empty cup and plate, along with fresh blue footprints along the lake. 

Morgana looked in her book of shadows for the information that she sought, mostly as confirmation that her visitor was who she already innately knew she was. She sipped some spiced  pomegranate wine that she had heated with one of the pokers that she stoked fires with to warm the cabin. Her throat was parched and raw, and she had a dry cough, and a slight fever, and the wine soothed her. Hopefully it would ease the cough so that she could sleep during the night. 

Morgana's fever raged during the night, and she slept fitfully, her slender body covered in perspiration. She saw fire in her dreams, heard it crackling as it burned, and felt its warmth. Comforting warmth; it did not burn, or even touch her. 

She saw Sapphire in her fevered dreams, but not a Sapphire made of snow, coal and heather. This Sapphire had sloe-black hair, deep sapphire blue eyes, and alabaster skin. She was clad in a gown of deep blue velvet a shade darker than her eyes, with a satin-lined cloak pulled around her, made from the same material as the gown. Sapphire earrings studded each earlobe, and blue flames flew from them as the candlelight hit them. She was quite stunning to behold, and Morgana was in awe of her.

She came over and laid a cool, delicate hand on Morgana's hot forehead. She left it there for a short time, slowly drawing the fever from Morgana's body. 

"Thank you", Morgana murmured softly to Sapphire, as she slowly drifted away in a now peaceful slumber. 

Morgana slept for several hours; it was late into the next morning when she awakened. When she arose from her bed, intending to prepare some warm tea, she found the blue satin and velvet cloak in a chair near the fireplace, along with a bouquet of dried heather.

She felt blessed and honored, for indeed she was. 

 

Friday, October 28, 2022

Passing the Torch

Morgana dressed carefully, for Merlin had summoned her, for what he had implied would be a momentous occasion. She chose the finest gown that she owned; nothing less would do now. When at last she was dressed and surveyed her appearance by candlelight in the mirror, she made quite a noticable figure. Midnight tresses and sloe eyes to match, alabaster skin, her body clad in plush, shimmering black velvet. The gown itself had a square neckline, and was studded with tiny diamond and pearls. She wore a pearl and diamond pendant, with matching miniature earrings. Her feet were encased in black velvet slippers with black satin heels, and there was a pearl solitaire ring on her right hand. She dabbed a bit of her exquisite rose attar on each wrist, and at the base of her throat. She smiled at her reflection. 
She reached for her black velvet cloak, and drew its thick folds around her, blew out the candle, and left to meet Merlin at the edge of the dark forest, near his cave, as he'd requested. Her black cat, Ceri, followed at her side.
She walked slowly, and it took her a short while, even though the distance really wasn't that far. 
There was a break in the clouds, and there in the moonlight, she saw Merlin waiting for her. Even though all she could see was his shadow, she knew it was him. 
She and Ceri finally reached him, and she looked up at him, and touched her cheek against his lightly. 
"Croeso, Morgana.", Merlin said softly. He touched her dark hair, and breathed in her rose perfume. 
Morgana smiled up into Merlin's eyes, and it was the last thing that she knew.
The next morning, Arthur's soldiers found a burned out torch and Morgana's black clock, with her signature pearl ring. No trace of the Lady Morgana and her familiar, Ceri, could be found. For that matter, neither could Merlin.

Racecar No. 5

 Ray Chamberlin was standing proudly beside his Number 5 car at the finish line, smiling for photographs. Another great NASCAR race win for ...