Five Sentence Fiction - Vision

Here are four separate FSF entries [all at no extra charge] on the prompt VISION, for the four main characters in what is either a developing story or a semi-coherent jumble of intertwined vignettes.

 SLUMBER [76 words]

After dinner, Marci was drawn again to the roll top desk.

Almost absently, she opened it and slipped into the heavy oak chair.

Suddenly sleepy, she laid her head on her arms, close to the cubby holes holding some of Uncle Albert's weird artifacts.

She missed the old man, and welcomed the connection the old desk offered.

Soon she drifted off, and in her strange dreams saw life-like visions of [what she thought were] imaginary creatures.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

HOMECOMING [76 words]

When Cheryl arrived home, she checked herself in the rear-view mirror and was disappointed in what she saw: sunken eyes, no make up, hair in a disarray of droops and tangles.

What would Gil think when saw what a mess she was?

But he greeted her with a kiss, and told her she was beautiful.

She ran her fingers through her hair, saying, "That's sweet, I'm a sight."

"No, darling," he replied, "You are a vision."

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

REVELATION  [79 words]

“Yes,” Rob cautiously admits when the bottle of wine was drained and he again stands with Marci gazing on her painting, “I’ve seen visions like this.”

Marci turns him toward her.

"That must hurt!" she says, lightly brushing over the mark on his cheek with her fingers, then her lips.

Then she draws back, eyes wide, as if shocked, and smiles knowingly.

"Rob," she says, leading him into the bedroom, “there are things we need to tell each other.”

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

DEAD RECKONING [89 words]

Gil tries to act normal, but isn’t sure how to navigate his marriage, now that he’s an adulterer.

Is he overcompensating, being too attentive, not attentive enough; how does he act when he isn’t acting?

That night when they make love, Cheryl seems uncharacteristically different in some undefinable way, almost as if she were desperate. 

He really does love Cheryl, but Marci has an allure that quickly became addictive.

He’s sailed into rocky shoals without a chart or even as much as an astrolabe to guide his muddled vision.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

See also here.

Cheryl's Thread

Gil's Thread

Marci's Thread

Rob's Thread

Five Sentence Fiction - FEAST

This scene was vaguely taking form, but this week's prompt helped to put some flesh on the bones.   This developing story involves four characters, but so far never more than two at a time.  Each character's thread can be accessed from the links in the right hand frame.

Somehow, I almost missed the prompt, and thought we were skipping a week.  I hadn't known of Lillie's illness, and wondered what was going on.  I wish her the best, and am very thankful for the inspiration she provides.

THE BIRTHDAY FEAST

For her 32nd birthday Rob treated Marci to a special dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town.

He wasn't always around, but when he was he always made it special.

And when he wasn't, Gil would sometimes fill in for him, and that - in its own way - was special, too.

But neither of them knew - in fact nobody on this earth knew - that Marci was worth close to 5 million, that she was a mother, and - though this was only her 32nd birthday - that the total chronology of her life spanned almost 36 years.

Marci knew from Rob's reaction to her painting that he had also had some other-wordly experience; and as she gazed at him over her grilled salmon and the iced bottle of Chardonnay, she wondered if maybe - just maybe - he could be the one she would share these secrets with.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~ 

Reduced to a haiku

The birthday lady

And her escort, both with dark

Secrets - can they share?

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Update:  Phil Hall's entry reminded me of a demented sonnet I wrote a few years back.  It doesn't relate to the Marci story, but it can be construed to relate to the theme.  plus, if I counted correctly, it contains exactly five sentences.

PASSIONATE PRETENSE

Her throat, no longer perfect, but still white,
Invokes the crimson from the sunset glow,
As she awaits the dark - to taste, to know
Carnality incarnate in the night.

       The sun's suffusion stains her skin to pink
       With its last russet bloom, as if she were
       A blushing maiden, innocent and pure,
       On satin sheets where white and scarlet link.

What has her throat to do with being white?
Like thorn and petals torn they two entwine,
But not as lovers do -- instead, to dine
In sweet engagement of an ancient rite.

Her white throat is a passionate pretense
That now, twice pierced, belies her innocence.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Marci's Thread

Rob's Thread

This post contains the story fragments in which Rob is the PoV character.  They are presented in story order, not posting order.  Links to the original posts are provided with the prompt words.

[I had no intention of this first one being anything other than a stand-alone, but it seems now that Rob and Marci go way back.]

Five Sentence Fiction - Character

This week's prompt made me stop and think.  I've been jumping on Thursdays the last few weeks with a story in my pocket, in hopes that the prompt would fit - and have been pretty lucky.  Of course, with 2 1/2 story lines in progress, I do have some options.

This time, I had a vignette taking form in the dark reaches of my fevered brain, but just now got it set down in print.  I also have two other candidates that fit the prompt in not quite the same way, so this choice was difficult.  Ultimately, it came down to this, because I think the story fits the prompt in a layered fashion, it's freshest in my mind, and I really wanted to stay with Rob a while longer.  Let me know if you think it works.

CHARACTER

I haven't seen Marci in over a month, but when she greets me at the door with a warm kiss and a cold glass of Chardonnay I know it's going to be a good night.

Then, in her living room, I see the picture over her couch, and yes, I also see that it is where that enigmatic half-memory came from - I had seen it unfinished, in her studio several months earlier.

Her use of light and shadow is masterful*, the scene and setting excitingly familiar: those are indeed tiny glowing winged female creatures, and the diaphanous wings and the haunting beauty of that other-worldly face are evocative of, but not quite identical to the one I know so well.

Marci is rightfully very proud of her handiwork; she leans against me and asks, "Do you like it?"

"Oh, yes," I tell her, slipping my arm around her narrow waist, "I like it very much, indeed."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Reduced to a Haiku

Fairy in the frame
So like the one I lust for:
My lady friend's art

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

* I have in my mind an image of this picture that is at once both vague and vivid.  It is in a style very reminiscent of the late Frank Kelly Frease.

Source

  Source

Source

Five Sentence Fiction

CANDIDATE 

Something unseen had drawn me there; I was feeling strung-out and more than a little lonely as I wandered through the deserted park at dusk. 

Off the path, in a cluster of trees to the right, I saw a glowing cloud - maybe an unlikely gathering of fireflies. 

Curious, I approached, and as I passed between a pair of soldier pines it suddenly fell full dark, the world seemed to turn on an unseen axis, and she appeared there in their midst. 

A queen in her court, surrounded by legions of fireflies, maybe, or tiny glowing winged women - I really couldn't tell; and the eutre beauty of her other-worldly face was hauntingly familiar, like something from a half-remembered dream. 

Then she turned to look majestically upon me, and in the piercing gaze of those moss-green eyes I knew with a sudden certainty that she had selected me, out of all the thousands of men in this city for some fell purpose of her own dark design, and that my only choice was to comply. 


The first person protagonist is Rob, Marci's occasional boy friend.  Things are getting convoluted.  Today's little vignette is prequel to 1) FAERIES and 2) FLAWED.

This week's prompt.

Five Sentence Fiction

Last week I was happy to get a prompt that allowed me to continue a story that wouldn't let me go.  This week, I have the same good fortune with the other story that stayed with me.

FLAWED

Not often - once in two or three months - I'll encounter a man who has the mark.

As our eyes meet, his hand goes up to his cheek, and I find myself mimicking the motion; then, knowing, he turns and hurries off.

Some of these men must be married - what stories do they tell their wives?

[I don't have that problem - Marci is just an occasional girl friend, with her own dark, unexplained secrets.]

Two or three months - that's how long the mark lasts from those pointy, piercing teeth, and as it fades the yearning gets stronger, deeper, more urgent for another tryst with my inhuman paramour.


Update, 10/18, just before midnight:  Since first posting, I've made a couple of slight editorial changes so that it will be clear [I hope] that Marci is the protagonist's occasional human lover, and not the antecedent of the final sentence.

Update II, 11/19, mid afternoon:

FLAWED II

Behold all of our greatest achievements.

Bask in the aural glory of our symphonies.

Delight your eyes with visions of our art, architecture and sculpture.

Gaze in wonder at the sophistication of our technical accomplishments.

Every bit of it is the work of human hands.

Five Sentence Fiction

UPDATE 10/09 -- And, Behind the Curtain Flash Fiction Contest.  Scroll past the story and the FSF Badge, below the fold. 

Source: assets.flavorwire.com via Anna on Pinterest

This week marks the first anniversary of FSF, and Lilly invites us to chose any word from the past year's prompts. I chose --

FAERIES

Now that she is naked, I can she how different she is, with her over-long, lithe limbs and a narrow waistline that would be impossible on a human girl.

But everything important is there, in the right place, and wonderfully functional; it's the extra things that make her so - not just different, but special.

Her wings flutter as she hovers so close above me, her slender hips undulating in an exquisite defiance of gravity.

Yes, now I am so close, as her face leans into mine; eyes the green of spring grass, long narrow nose, delicate elven ears, thin lips in a conquering smile - and her teeth, glistening white, pointed, sharp.

Oh, sweet Jesus, so very, very sharp .  .  .


Link to FSF Central

Five Sentence Fiction

Just what I needed - a new meme.  Well, I will try it out once, anyway.

AWKWARD

Late in his senior year, Bob's high school buddies took him to a place where women traded love for cash.

"But," he protested, I have a girlfriend, Marci."
 
"Marci is an amateur; find out what a pro can do," they said.
 
Bob climbed the back steps, resolute in his new purpose.
 
Then he made eye contact with the man coming down the steps, Marci's father.  


Here is a link to The FSF Control Center.