I am determined to make my writing prompt challenge goal, and as I have had little opportunity to sit and write anything since going back to work, I wanted to write as freely and without hinderance as I could with the time I had available. And so I just wrote. No idea of what it was going to become, no concern of word count, just a little story to break up the monotony of my day.

I present June’s flash fiction pieces.

Ghost Story

Every culture has their ghost stories. Often times they’re allegorical tales intended to frighten the children into behaving, or to give reason for the strange happenings in the land. But not every mystery has a reason, not every sighting has cause.
 
In our village, for as many years as anyone could remember, there was the tale of the Mist Woman or the Lady in Black. There was no memory of who she might have been, why she walked with her umbrella, or who or what she may have been looking for. She simply appeared, and no one could connect her sightings to events of good or ill, she just existed, randomly.
 
And that brought me a great sadness. She seemed to be stuck in limbo, and she didn’t have a history of threatening behavior or a desire for help, which made me wonder at what held her back from crossing over? Why did she remain?
 
One day I was “lucky” enough to cross her path. I was not afraid. Only curious. I hoped to be able to discern something in her nature that may be of use. There was no chill in the air, no disturbance, she simply manifested near me. We walked together for a while. There was no wind, but her dress moved about her as if she were caught in a breeze, or perhaps in water. I could not see her face, but I felt something, like gratitude. She suddenly stopped, turned toward me, made the slightest gesture of a head nod toward me, then disappeared.
 
I walked that path every day for the rest of my life waiting for her to join me again.

Dark Side

Morgan had a lot to be thankful for, but she was also a teenager who resented hiding her true nature. She was born a fairy and raised by humans, and while that sounded like the interesting premise to a story, her life was lived in fear that she would be discovered; that she would be taken by the Men in Black to be experimented on, never to be seen by her loved ones again.

She once had white hair and wings to match, but then she met someone who changed her perspective. Whose influence changed her in ways she could never have imagined. An unleashing of power long repressed by fear and responsibility.

She had felt the change happening, and feared it, as she had most things until her transformation was complete, and then she felt renewed, strong, unafraid. Her power had been dormant because, in part, she didn’t know who she truly was. It’s one thing to know you’re a mythical being, it’s another to discover what you’re capable of because you’re this mythical being. 

She knew Lucien was not to be trusted, that he was not the ally she needed, there was another who already had her heart, but while he wanted to keep her safe, keeping her progress slow, Lucien was determined to set her free. But he had his own agenda, a grand scheme that gave her a different sense of fear.

~ * ~

I hope you’ll join me for a little free write, writing community! I look forward to reading your creations!

Happy Writing!