Ashes to Ashes

Ashes to Ashes
by Stephen A Abell

Number of Words: 297



The ceramic urn came as quite a surprise to me. Delivered by courier this morning, it’s been a cause of consternation as to who could’ve sent me such a bizarre gift. The ashes within bid me to believe these are the cremated remains of somebody. Though, for the life of me, I cannot deduce whom it could be. The last funeral I attended was six years ago, and being a distant family member I cannot possibly believe this has to do with them.

I’ve been contemplating the matter for the past eight hours, not the healthiest way to spend a day; worse still, it’s the weekend and my own time. Trying to weigh up the situation, I’ve been backwards and forwards, in nervous reflection. Every now and then I find myself peering into the dark and dusty confines of that dreaded urn, and have to force myself to replace the lid and walk away.

With heavy head, I took myself to bed, vowing not to think on the matter any longer. Sleep came filled with half remembered dreams. I awoke often, as my body became aflame with sharp searing pain. The last time awoke I saw her. Her skin shone a ghastly white and through her I saw the mirror, where she cast no reflection.

Sadness flooded my entirety as I remembered the night my car had skidded over the rain-wet road surface. slamming into her, throwing her into a nearby tree as though she were a rag doll. I didn’t even get out. My foot pressed down on the accelerator, even before I released the handbrake.

As I lay in bed, I know my legs are shattered, as are my ribs, which I fear have punctured my lungs... and... I’m quickly... running out... of brea...



For the contest "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge"  based on the prompt “Include Ashes, Gift, & Sharp in your story.”