A flash fiction from an unusual p.o.v |
Finders Keepers The house forgot to be a home, it forgot that it was once a place to nurture, protect, and shelter those within from the daily bruising task of living. It was elegant, regal almost, all stained glass and oak panels; but they were just shadows from a past that haunted and hurt. Once it had been able to listen to their plans, hopes and dreams, and even share in their times of sadness, fear and despair but now all that was gone. Now it held strangers. Yes, they had hopes and fears also but they were not off the house, just in the house that was the difference. Occasionally there would be incidence that roused a passing moment of interest. A quarrel would erupt like a screeching storm, but that too would be sucked into the empty heart of the house worn down by the passing of time. Still they came, the strangers staying weeks and moving on, an existence that had no marking but by the house. Others stayed because they feared the world beyond its iron-studded door. But they were like cobweb filled shadows; they could not give the house back its true purpose. It existed throughout the centuries but then something changed; a small-scattered incident that brought a lasting impact. This violent death,not the normal drawn out death. The house had known that long lingering rattle before and shrank back in disgust but this one different passing gave the house something more . The police inspector looked down at the blood-splattered body lying on the dark wood floor of the living room. “The swine’s smiling as if he has the last laugh on me, getting shot like that.” The inspector gave Hursts’ body a final glance.” At least we got to the girl in time.That's one less body, one less mother to have to break bad news."The inspector frowned."In fact that’s the only good to come out of this whole sorry mess." He turned to his DSI. " Who the hell told that sniper to shoot anyway?” The house stopped, it was experiencing something strange, a sensation of something cold moving between the layers of its many mirrors, something dark and brooding, something betrayed and abandoned. The House rejoiced, it had at last found a true soul mate. |