Flash Fiction, Passion's Invocation, Psychological Fiction, Tuesday Teasers

Love is Blind

Love is Blind


Photo From:


He didn’t know what it was like. He couldn’t have. He couldn’t have known what his ugliness had done to her. He had never felt anything deeply, never gripped onto the last flicker of a flame, never held onto hope for dear life just to have it coldly snuffed out.

At the time, she couldn’t fathom that this was the work of the same man she’d loved so very dearly. Standing alone in the pitch with tears falling onto a still warm candle, too fearful to let go, Michaela prayed that it might flicker back to life at least long enough to run for the safety of light which, in reality, she knew did not exist.

Barefoot on cold cement, Michaela turned to look hopefully back over her shoulder but was met with the thick, merciless stillness, filled with no hope, no sense of proximity or direction, no stability nor love, and nothing to hold onto, just stagnant suffocating air. There, she stood frozen, with wax candle growing cold in her hands as she slipped to the floor shivering.

Michaela was naked, stripped of pride, belief, love and trust. Daniel had thrust her into empty, echoing aloneness because she had given all of herself. Now her everything was gone. He had turned his back on all of it, relegating her to the icy vice-grip of nothing else in her world that mattered as much.

Not a soul knew that she was locked in a basement below ground. No windows would save her come daylight. No one; no family nor friend, no love was coming to her rescue. Solitary penalty, she thought, as hope spilled down her cheeks.

A chill slid up her spine seizing her throat and a distant scream split the air, growing louder and more intense, until it surrounded her. Michaela twisted her neck turning to look and hoping her eyes would adjust, but then remembered how she had come to this moment, in this solitary place, and realized that the screaming came from her.

Michaela dropped the candle and sobbed into her hands. She wasn’t prepared for this. This will be certain death. The though registered like she had ingested a gallon of molten lead gone cold. She curled upon cement wondering how long it would take, how long she would endure the torment of starvation, isolation and black vacancy.

Even dying, little piece by little piece, isn’t as horrible as knowing how much I loved and invested in the one who sentenced me to it. How long until I die for this sin, she wondered, and then implored the Heavens, screaming on her knees, “Exactly what is the price for blind love? I trusted my heart”!

She pictured him now, laughing among friends, with self-righteous indignance, speaking as though she deserved to die for this; for the crime of believing in Daniel and loving him more than life. “Love is blind,” she whispered into the stillness.

Michaela knew that his friends and acquaintances were equally enamored, albeit differently. They too had no idea that the good man they accepted in the warmth of friendship would someday reveal himself; the monster inside would make itself known. Maybe they will be the ones to discover my bones here, she thought, knowing they would only meet the same fate.

Having worn out the last of her will, she closed her eyes, whispering into endless nothingness, “Now I lay me down to sleep”…


by Wildfire8470




© April 29, 2018 at 10:37 AM

Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected

Tags:  Tuesday Teasers, flash fiction, blind faith blind love, horror, allegory, unrequited love, murder, death

Passion's Invocation, Stories That Need A Home

Earth Mother Meets Her Match

Earth Mother Meets Her Match


Forces of Nature


Janie partook in the college graduation festivities before packing and preparing for her flight to a new life. Once an awkward, skinny girl, she was now a force of nature. Friends described her as being filled with life, vim, vigor and inspiration. She was, in fact, very beautiful.

Janie smiled often and talked easily with anyone. She looked like a model, had an enviable eye for photography, a 4.0 average, and possessed the personality of an extremely dear friend. Janie’s closest friends called her Earth Mother. She could write her own ticket and did.

In the early a.m., she crept from her dorm to pile all her belongings into a cab, all but her precious camera. It was a permanent fixture, dangling from her neck through years of tests, parties, cram sessions, roommates and trials and celebrations. Wisely, she knew that life would hand her unique opportunities to shoot in the most mundane of days. She was never unprepared.

Janie sat quietly dreaming in the back seat of a cab, thinking of her destination and how exciting it would be to experience the USA and to join a team of journalists, reporters and photographers unequaled by any, in her estimation. She squirmed in her seat anxious to get there, to put her talent up against the tenure of the best and more than ready to prove herself.

She arrived at Schiphol Amsterdam Airport and boarded the flight nearly buzzing with excited anticipation. Once airborne, she extracted a small radio and donned headphones. Janie stayed abreast of the news and breaking bulletins where she was headed.

There was news of terrible storms that spawned tornadoes while the death toll climbed. She deplaned in Missouri, found her luggage and hailed her last cab of the too long day still preoccupied. What, exactly, would the face of horror or terror look like?

Janie scolded herself for her dark thoughts, not yet noticing that the cab had slowed to a crawl, nor did she see the monster just beyond them chewing up a field and closing in, until a second later.

Good God, it’s living evil, she thought as she sprang into motion, “Wait,” Janie yelled, “Stop! I have to shoot this!”

“But, Miss,” He began urgently, “Do you know how fast it could…”

“Damn it! Stop the cab,” she ordered half jumping out to lunge for the tripod.

He slammed on the brakes uttering an oath as he leapt out and ran to catch her. He eyed the length of several football fields between the twister and Janie as it leveled everything in its path,

“Come back,” He shouted, “There’s no time! Come back!”

Janie set the wide-angle lens on auto-shoot as the driver ran to move the car to safety, muttering, “Crazy lady doesn’t care if she gets killed,” as he shoved it into reverse and floored the gas pedal hard.

Janie froze in fear, not realizing that the wind would whip her camera to capture the true face of terror locked in a single frame with the beast, before it closed the gap and claimed its prey.

The photo was her last ‘first’ in the news game and adorned a beautiful coffin at her wake. The picture was splashed across headlines by would-be co-workers, all of whom were in attendance that day.

But perhaps the most poignant words came from a lone cab driver who made his way from the back of the crowd, choking on tears. He laid a gentle hand on her photo whispering in his grief, “You were a beautiful force of nature, Janie. I wish you hadn’t met your match. I would have liked it to be me. Rest peacefully, sweet Janie.”

By Wildfire8470
Wildfire8470 Logo


©January 21, 2017 – 09:09 AM
Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected 
Reproduction or republication of this content is prohibited without prior written permission.