\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2287787-The-Future
Image Protector
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Death · #2287787
Death Is Not The End - Daily Flash Fiction Entry.
The Future?



By Stephen A Abell – Monday, 2nd January 2023.



Number of Words – 300.





         The crystal vase holding the twelve red roses reflected the winter sunlight in prismatic rainbows across the room. Dennis inhaled and exhaled a deep breath slowly. His practised mindfulness technique made him thankful for the beautiful colours, calming his mind to the dreadfulness of his future. Around the room, birds tweeted, and a brook babbled as the recorded forest sounds dampened his anxiety.

         It was January 2nd, and the year had already started its journey down the crapper. Last year, he and his brother lost their mother and father to Covid. The worst was not being able to see them until they were laid out in mourning. Then today, his mobile had presented him with the frightful news of his brother’s death. Sadly, Darren had not been alone. His wife, Meagan, and their three children, Alfie, Josh, and David, the triplets, had also been in the car. They were coming to spend New Year's Bank Holiday with him. Strangely, Dennis felt no remorse. The principal reason for his lack of guilt was that Darren and his family arrived three hours after the fateful call.

         One day, three years previously, Dennis had fallen onto a mislaid tool whilst attempting to unblock his client's sink. The screwdriver penetrated the base of his skull and twisted, stabbing into his brain. The doctors had claimed a miracle. Dennis lived without any apparent injuries, apart from the hole.

         Alas, the accident cursed him with a superpower: Ghost Vision. Depressingly, once one ghost knows you can see and hear them, they all know.

         The screams and wails from the terrible trio of dead tots forced their way through his tranquillity. The bairns were hungry and scared, and they would stay hungry and scared and bairns forever. He felt his depression darkly blooming as their screeches flourished.







© Copyright 2023 Pennywise (pennywise at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2287787-The-Future