Writober 2023 (7 days of micro fiction)

Day 1: Floating Mask in the Dark.

         Stanley was walking home from work. It was a typical after work night. It was dark, because of course is was, it was dark at five in the afternoon. He passed Mr. Lester’s house and then Mrs. Casey’s which was on the right. Mr. Lester’s walkway was lit up with those little sidewalk lamps. Mrs. Casey’s dog, Barkley, a shih tzu, weas barking.

           It was a typical day, I mean night, and an especially typical walk home with leaves blowing across the street and the standard neighbourhood noises of children screaming and dogs barking. Stanely would usually glance at the houses as he passed them, sometimes stopping to pet on of the many stray cats that lived in the colony next to Mrs. Casey’s house.

          The cats liked Stanley, especially the little grey cat with the blue green eyes. He would stop and feed the cats some of his leftover ham or chicken. Today there were no cat to be seen loitering on the sidewalk or in the colony, not even the little grey one. Suddenly, Barkley stopped barking!

            He stopped and looked around. The empty yard where the colony lived, he saw large and small glowing orbs floating in the yard. There were some that he could make out faces on, with eyes and some mouths.

            “Um, hello?” he called, but the face just floated and danced in the yard. “ Okay, I’ll leave you to it then,” he said, turning to walk away.

            “Okay, bye Stan,” said a voice, but when he turned the faces were gone.

Day 2: Woman and Cat with Glowing Eyes and Coffee

            FRIDAY at 7:57 pm.

            It had been a long week and the coffee maker was brewing. I can smell it; dark and nutty. I am leaning against the counter staring at the empty dining room and the boxes against the far wall. “Need to get to those boxes, Nyx,” I said to the yellow eyes on the counter.

            Nyx was staring at her, unblinking on the counter. “Mrrow,” said the white cat.

            “Yeah, my thoughts exactly. It can wait until morning.” Nyx turned at walked behind me. The coffee maker beeped.

             I turned with cup in hand to see the completed coffee and it was glowing red. “Mrrow,” said Nyx.

             “Um, Nyx?”

              Nyx walked to the edge of the conter, turned staring at me. Her eyes were now glowing green.

             “If you say so,” and I poured myself a cup. The cup lifted to my lips and I drank. The warmth rolling into my mouth, down my throat. I stopped.

              I turned back to the boxes against the wall and saw little dark mases open and closed the box lids. “Yeah, Nyx. It was wait until morning.”

Day 3: Guitar with Multiple Hand and Skulls.

          “Do you hear that?” asked George.

          “What?” asked Damon.

          “That!” as said George as he pointed out into the dark. “The music. Don’t you hear it?” George stood up, “Who’s playing the guitar at midnight?” trying to locate the direction of the wild guitar playing.

          “It’s after two in the morning, awfully close to the witching hour,” said Damon. “And it is coming from the graveyard on Silas Hill."

          “Oh stuff it, Damon. It’s Silent Hill, not Silas.”

           “No, it’s Silas Hill. Jerk. Up Birch Creek Road and named after Silas Hill, the founder of the town. Don’t you know your history?” Damon stood up and walked out into the dark leaving George alone in the circle of light of the small fire.

            “Where are you going?” asked George.

             Damon called behind him, “To investigate, you coming?”

             “Not fond of the dark, graveyards, or dying. So, no.”

             “Shuck off, George! There is no one up there,” called Damon as his voice disappeared into the dark.

             George stood along in the campfire light. Shadows were dancing around him. He listened to the guitar music, it was Spanish sounding with quick strumming and chords. It suddenly stopped, everything was still, “Damon?” called George, then a violin started playing and guitar resumed its frantic playing.

Day 4: Gas Mask Suit

             What do you do when you are home alone, watching scary movies in the dark and you hear a doorbell ring?

             Me? Well, my first thought is that I have no doorbell, so what the hell is that at my door?

             You stand, stretching, spilling the large metal bowl of popcorn across the couch. Your cat is unphased and continues to sleep. The TV is quietly playing some older zombie movie. You pull on your extra-large college sweatshirt and grab the nearest weapon, a volume of William Shakespeare. The cat is still snoozing.

             You slowly creep through the living room and towards the front door, but you don’t hear anything, except the movie still quietly playing on the TV, muffled speech and thumping. Then you hear a thumping from the front door. You stop.

             “Hellooooo?” you call to the door, as you are still not at the door. You walked into the vestibule and the doorbell rang again. The doorbell that shouldn’t exist. “Hi! Who’s there?” as to tightly grip the book in your hands. There is another quiet thump from the door. 

              At the door, you grab the light switch, setting down the book and grabbing the door handle. One, two, three…on goes the light and the door is flung open. No one is on the front stoop, but there is a loud thump coming from the living room. As you turn, you see a figure on the TV wearing a gas mask suit and the volume is turned way up.

              Your cat dashes from the couch.

Day 5: Fire Dancer

             All was quiet in the dance studio. Nellie closed the door and turned on a small lamp in the corner for some light. The light spread in a small circle around the polished wood floor. She turned on CIRCE and music floated down and across the floor in a rainbow of audio mosaic.

             “I wish I had someone to dance with,” said Nellie to the empty studio. The dim bluish light cast her shadow as it moved in time with her across the floor. She moved her feet. The drumming vibration of the music melted into the floor and lost to the movement of her feet.

            Tap. Tap. Swoosh. Nellie danced, losing herself to the music. Spin. Spin. Tap. Tap. She felt her body warming up as she moved. A smile spread across her face. The studio was no longer dark as she danced. The lamp light swirled like flames, making larger shadows that danced with Nellie.

            “Spin me,” she called.

             The walls blurred, the light blurred, even the music began to blur and started crackling like flames licking the walls of the studio.

Day 6: Decapitated Woman / Doll

           “Can you imagine the settee in the corner?” asked Cordelia.

           There was silence and then a rustle of fabric. “Oh, you’re no help,” she said. Another rustle, almost like a whisper, but unintelligible. Cordelia just sighed.

            There was a movement out of the corner of her eyes. She could still hear the rustling, but she didn’t see anything. “What are you doing?” asked Cordelia.

            No answer.

            “Just answer me! What are you doing?” Cordelia shouted. It was then that her view changed, spinning the velvet grey wallpaper into a blur. She shut her eyes.

             There was a thump and when she opened her eyes there in front of her was the green and gold settee, it was sitting in the corner. A hand waved in front of Cordelia. “Oh!”

              The hand turned Cordelia towards the headless torso of her own body.

               “Thanks!” said Cordelia.

               The torso bowed at the waist.

               “The settee does look good in the corner.”

Day 7: Rubix Cube with Eyes and Hands

            Laney had a Rubix Cube on her desk. It just sat there, untouched, with its rainbow of colours all jumbled up. She never played with it. Her aunt gave it to her when she was in the hospital.

            Laney wasn’t puzzle inclined, but her aunt had given it to her, and she loved her aunt. It was late and she couldn’t sleep. Her cat Chester was lying on her grey fuzzy pillow, breathing gently, relaxed. Laney was not relaxed, though her breathing was gentle. She suffered from insomnia since being in the hospital. Nothing seemed to help, not tea, music, meditation, alcohol, or pills. Even when Chester started sleeping in her room, she was only able to nap for maybe an hour.

             “Maybe I’ll try reading,” she said to a snoozing Chester. But the book was not interesting, nor did it make her sleepy. Laney laid the book on her desk and picked up the Rubix Cube. In the pale light of her desk lamp she studied the cube. She saw an eye on a green square. She touched it and the eye moved. “Whoa!” said Laney. “I think I need sleep,” but she moved the cube pieces, following the green eye, and then the eyes moved the blue square. This continued.

  

             In the morning her mom found Laney asleep on her bed with a complete cube in her hand.