Flash fiction — quick and sometimes to the point. I used to participate in flash contests on a daily basis, but haven’t in a while. Looking back at the few I saved, they were all pretty dark. I think I’ll post some, periodically. Sadly, there’s no context for them since I never saved the image-inspirations, so I’m sure everything will seem way, way out of left field. But that’s okay, they’re only words!
“Tell me, what do you see now?”
“I see Jessica,” she says, her voice little more than a whisper.
He lays down the card to reveal the one behind it. “And now?”
He sighs and says, “That’s forty-eight cards, Megan. Why do you think you see Jessica in them all?”
“Jessica is in everything,” the young woman says, her eyes transfixed by the Rorschach card. She wants to reach out, to touch the portrait of the girl, but the straps make that impossible.
“There is no Jessica, Megan.”
Blood. A shovel. The sweet cold face of her father’s secret.