Salt--Written for Daily Flash Fiction

298 words

Salt

Shenna glanced anxiously out the window of her tiny, one-room apartment. At best she had a few minutes of sunlight left. Biting her lip, she resumed her work.

Always, it came without warning. The first time she thought she was imagining things. Her iron teapot rusting overnight in a bone-dry cabinet. A circle of tiny white toadstools in a flowerpot. Once a whole row of scraggly ash trees outside her apartment building had died overnight. She quickly learned to recognize the signs—once they began, the dreams...he...was never far behind.

Shenna was bent over by the bed, circling it slowly and dragging behind her a black cardboard cylinder with the words “MORTON SALT” printed along the top in wide, leaving a white line of salt in her wake. Two shakily formed white circles already surrounded the bed. At last, she carefully joined the ends of the salt line, forming a third and innermost circle, and stood.

“Finally.” A male voice, cold and mocking, from the doorway. Dark shadows twisted there. Shenna’s eyes shot up, but she caught herself before she could dart a glance at the doorway. “You found something that works.”

Shenna slowly sat down on the mattress and closed her eyes. She felt her breathing come quick and shallow and fought for control.

“Don’t fret, my dear,” the voice continued, in the same amused, cruel tone “This won’t keep me away forever.”

“I’ll find something that will,” Shenna said softly, but firmly. Dark black circles stained her pale cheeks. She closed her eyes, and wrapped a blanket around her thin shoulders. “I’ll find a way.”

Hard laughter followed her words. Shenna flinched and shrank into the blanket, but the laughter quickly evaporated, leaving her shivering at her small triumph in her finally empty apartment.