Part Two of my September Flash Fiction! The prompts can be found here. Please note that these are posted daily on my Tumblr, if you’d like to catch up with them there. Let me know what you think or if you are also following the prompts!
Day 8: Harvest
Looking almost yellow, the harvest moon hung low in the sky and he paused a moment to gaze and appreciate the beauty of the night. At this time of the year when he was younger, he used to help out on his grandparents’ farm. Perhaps he’d be picking ears of corn before the first frost of the year came or being sure all of the chickens were gathered in the coop for the night. A crisp wind reminded him of where he was. He sighed as he began to dig up the grave again, harvesting a different crop that night.
Day 9: Pine Cones
There was a pile of pine cones at the side of their house, right in front of the stacked firewood. She wasn’t quite sure where they all came from, but there was enough there now that they were noticeable. A handful of pine cones dropped by a squirrel made sense. But a dozen pine cones gathered together? She was tempted to scatter them, hoping a rodent wasn’t trying to make a nest. Before she could, a cat popped out from beneath the firewood, followed by three kittens who immediately practiced their pouncing on the pine cones. The pine cones stayed.
Day 10: Quilt
The quilt was tightly crocheted, a perfect square with frilled edges. Woven with golden yellows and a touch of red, it was one of the favorite family blankets for cool autumn and winter nights. The colors have since faded with the years and she couldn’t remember how bright the quilt used to be, but she was sure she believed it had shone with the power of the sun when she was a girl. As she wrapped her newborn in the quilt, she hoped she would be able to instill that same secure feeling into her baby as she always had.
Day 11: Orange
He couldn’t have been less inconspicuous if he tried. The neon orange hat could be spotted miles away, even if she didn’t have a pair of binoculars trained on him. For a guy who had important government secrets and documents in his briefcase, he wasn’t trying to hide. It made her job easier. It was simple to catch up to him. She planned to grab the case when the next train dropped off its riders. Yet, when she rounded the corner of the station, there he was, grinning. He held up the briefcase and said, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Day 12: Rain
Her roommate was enthralled with the rain. She sighed while staring out the window like one who was awaiting her lover. When asked about it, all that she said was, “You can’t sense it? The magic in the air that the rain brings?” Her roommate chalked it up to it just her enjoying nature, returning to her coffee. Yet, it was only a few minutes before her roommate gasped and tugged her outside with glee. In the seconds it took to become soaked, she was yanked into a puddle with her roommate that was much too deep for the sidewalk.
Day 13: Scarecrow
A trail of straw emerged from the corn stalks through the backyard, took a detour to the barn, then into the house’s back door. She grabbed the axe next to the firewood, entering her home. The trail continued through the kitchen, seemed to grow into a suspicious pile by the bathroom mirror, before going into the living room. She gaped and nearly dropped the axe at seeing her scarecrow — previously inanimate — sitting on her sofa with her cat playing with the straw from his arms. He stared at her with his button eyes and said, “I don’t know what happened.”
Day 14: Cobweb
As intricate as a snowflake, the spider’s cobweb was a mesmerizing display of soft gauze weaved into a maze-like pattern. Dewdrops from the morning clung to the thin threads, twinkling in the sun like stars. The spider itself wasn’t seen, most likely tired from all the hard work it took to create such a detailed web with only instincts and the light of the moon to guide it. But it was also placed right outside of her back door. With a quiet apology, she took the vacuum to the web, destroying the spider’s night work in a matter of seconds.