The second flash fiction challenge from Carrot Ranch Communications:
In 99 words (no more, no less) write about a character from any perspective who has to part with a prize possession.
I hope you enjoy it:
Stripped
She could hear them.
They didn’t think she could. She couldn’t talk. Why should she hear?
Caressing soft leather covers, fingering embossed lettering, she smelt the welcome of well-read pages and familiar characters.
In her mind.
While they annihilated shelves of prized possessions.
“No value here.”
“Dump them!”
Stripped of speech and movement, her twisted body dumped in her “favourite chair” for “minding” while they pillaged her collection: a lifetime in the making; seconds to destroy.
Laughter. Her eyes flickered. She knew those words by heart. She had written them –
Her last refuge.
Shit!
and that’s gone too!
I welcome any feedback.
Pingback: Flash Fiction: Giving Up a Prized Possesion « Carrot Ranch Communications
Very atmospheric, Nor! It leaves me with questions. But I think I’d like to leave them as questions, and let my “imagination” (if it’s still there) fill in the blanks – one of the joys of engaging prose such as yours!
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Thanks Bec. I’m pleased you enjoyed it. A 99 word, no more no less, task is rather challenging!
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