Flash Fiction Entries

Lost and Found

The old woman lay on the bed and watched the play of shadows on the high ceiling from the flickering candle. Her heart raced as memories of his funeral flitted through her mind like slides through a projector. She envisioned the blanketed cover of red roses draping the mahogany coffin, her nyloned toes exposed in her good shoes, almost touching the twinkling snow carpeting the hard ground.

Coldness continued to envelop her. How cold John must be, alone beneath the snow-covered blooms. She imagined him lying beside her, warm and breathing, smelling of sawdust and peppermint toothpaste.

She lowered her eyes and watched the quilt rise and fall over her chest with each labored breath. She lay with John under this quilt, a wedding-ring design, a symbol of their marriage, made by John’s mother. Was John with his mother, now?

A tear trickled from the corner of her left eye and rolled into her ear. Agitated, she exposed a hand and wiped it away.

She heard the click, click, click of Tuggles’ claws on the wood floor in the hallway and prepared for his leap onto the bed. An image of a starving and gasping Tuggles popped into her head, and guilt crept through her rigid body.

But she thought of the pills and water on her nightstand, the pills the doctor gave her to help her sleep, and she longed for their relief.

Tuggles purred into her ear and snuggled against her shoulder, filled with love and trust, unaware of death's presence. He burrowed into the familiar crook of her neck, warming her coldness.

Tears gushed from the old woman’s eyes as her heart broke and mended, all in an instant. She turned to Tuggles and released her grief into the silky gray fur.

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