Wednesday 6 January 2016

Drabble Wednesday: Past Reality

This week, Drabble Wednesday steps beyond the realm of the existent into worlds beyond…

Debt Collector

The man in the black coat waited. At the end of the street, his white gloved hands resting on his walking stick, a derby hat upon his head. He stood still, though the wind plucked at his coat, his silver eyes staring.
I remembered those silver eyes.
I remembered the last night he stood waiting. The night of my unholy bargain. Now it’s time to pay my due.
Well, he won’t collect anything from me. I shan’t go out tonight.
I take my tea into the drawing room. Silver eyes stared at me.
“Hello, James. I was tired of waiting.”


The Visitor

My sister died a year ago.
My family shut away her existence, even refuses to whisper her name. They shush me when I try to talk of her, and I see their looks of pity. I ignore them now. I am simply glad they granted me the gift of her mirror.
I hung it on my bedroom wall, over my dressing table, where the sun can catch the gilt finish and make it shine. Where I sit and stare into the polished glass, remembering. Where I smile, laugh, and cast her name to the heavens.
Where she answers me.



Skittered particles of dust, like sparkles on a lake surface, shifting, shattering inside sunbeams. Suspended in air, visible as the light passes giving form to the insubstantial. Whispers of what went before, the aged dust of humanity, hovering, lingering.
In the gossamer net of the sun, exposed. A minuscule river, flowing, bobbing, desiccated powdered remains, of what was once flesh and life. We were washed away, but now reborn specks of matter again, fragments to be certain, but alive, aware. For one moment in the sun. Before we disappear to the nether beyond.
To the world of the dead.

© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved

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