May 30, 2016 Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, Original Short Story
Word Count: 150 words of text, exactly
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Thanks to Priceless Joy, for hosting Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers,
and to Barbara Taylor for that very moving photograph!
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Thanks to Priceless Joy, for hosting Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers,
and to Barbara Taylor for that very moving photograph!
Fire and Ice
©May 30th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
There is a shadow on her heart as she sits here, alone on the bench, looking across the river.
There’s a twin shadow on the city which she loves, and which she will never visit again.
Fifteen years ago, the debris of humanity rained down among fire and ash and smoke.
A memory smites her heart: A man at ease, falling through the sky.
Who he was she will never know – but she knows why he fell, for, if given a choice, she would choose to fly.
She does not wish to know his name. She knows her own true love hadn’t returned home that day. Had he been up there?
Amidst the stinging winds of February, with crunched-up snow at her feet, a river of ice runs through her veins.
And though her warm cheeks are wet, her face burns like flame, and her eyes mirror smoke, she shivers.
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Tags: #FFfAW, #NewYorkSkyline, #Original150wordShortStorybyVIjayaSundaram, #September11, #TheFallingMan, #TwinTowers
May 24, 2016 Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, Original Short Story
Word Count: 150 words of text, exactement
Genre: Historical-Fantasy Fiction
Prompt by: Priceless Joy at Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Eye Spy
©May 24th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
The Eye swivelled around in its orbit, taking in everything – the movements beneath, and the muted chatter of humans beneath its watchful gaze.
No one saw the eye. Voices full of hushed awe spoke of things the Eye could not hear, but their words made pictures, and the Eye could see.
The Eye had no memory beyond its own visions, when it had, in its smaller form, been housed in the body of a great general. The Eye had beheld great massed armies, and had rested upon the most celebrated beauty of her time, she who was full of sexual magic, her voice full of silvery allure. And the Eye had seen a great loss at Waterloo.
Now, seeing those visions again, the Eye closed an instant.
“Was that rain?” asked a woman looking up at the Dôme des Invalides.
The moist Eye continued to gaze down steadily.
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Tags: #DômedesInvalides, #FFfAW, #JosephineBuonaparte, #NapoleonBuonaparte, #Original150wordShortStorybyVIjayaSundaram