Archive for October, 2010

REFLECTION: By Lori Titus

Friday, October 29th, 2010

Wait a minute. What am I doing here?

Take a deep breath.

I stare into the mirror and am surprised at the image who stares back. Long blond hair. Wide green eyes. A face that doesn’t look at all like what I remember it to be. But as I touch my face, I see the reflection do the same.

What are you waiting for?
The woman in the mirror says. Don’t you remember why you came back here?

I shake my head no, and she looks at me like a dumb child. For all intents and purposes, that’s all she thinks of me. The way its always been.

Clutching the sink, I look down at my hands.

You need to finish cleaning up, she said.

There are still streaks of blood between my fingers, but much more is in the drain.
My dress, once white, looked as if some artist had spent the day throwing red paint at me.

It wasn’t paint, of course. I could smell it.

Shivering, I turned the water up, and reached for a towel, scrubbing my hands with frothy soap and hot water . I pulled my dress off and scrubbed in the shower.

The dress seemed to have absorbed most of it. There wasn’t much blood on my body.
Once I turned off the water, I could hear the television still blasting in the other room.

I put on a robe and stumbled into the hallway.

Wait a minute. What am I doing here?

I paused.

The walls in the hallway were blank. Not so much as a picture, and thankfully, not a mirror. I could feel her green eyes watching me. Threatening me to fuck up like I always do.

We are just bits of each other. But she seems intent….

On putting you in your place, she hissed.

The living room is a big and bright. A fireplace, a large television mounted on the wall, and a couch.

My husband is still, staring at the television screen.

He’s sitting on the couch, eyes wide. The game has been off for hours now, and I fumble for the remote, because he doesn’t like this show. The one where the girl begs the guy to chose her. When all along he’s snickering, because his choice has been made. She just doesn’t know it yet.

“Honey?” I said.

He turns to me slowly, blinking.

Of course, its impossible that he could do that now. I see the gash just beneath his Adam’s apple.

My hands seem to have a memory of their own: the skillful arc I made as I came down with the knife at the base of his throat. Looking down, I could see the knife peaking out from under the sofa. Sterling caught the light and gleamed cruelly.

I shake my head, and squeeze my eyes shut.

When I open them, he’s not moving anymore. I see now that the blood is dry, cold, and turning black.

Don’t you remember what happened?  My reflection said, now staring down at me from the television screen.

Her eyes are like cold flame. And her lips are twisted. She’s holding back her laughter.

I didn’t think you’d really do it, you little prissy bitch, she scolded. You always say I’m only a fucking voice in your head. You never listened to me before.

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 © 2010 Lori Titus

Lori Titus’ novella, Lazarus, is available on Amazon.com: http://tinyurl.com/26gx8g9. Her next book, Hailey’s Shadow, will be released in November. Meanwhile, her favorite vampire/werewolf hybrid, a teenager named Marradith, pouts and declares that every Wednesday belongs to her. For more information on the writer, see her blog: http://tinyurl.com/27c6rno .

EPHEMERAL DIAMOND: By Conan Young

Friday, October 29th, 2010

Youthful, vibrant, forever beautiful.
 
It was everything Callista ever desired.  Her hair shimmered like polished bronze and her complexion had become white as morning frost.  Piercing ruby eyes complemented her blood red lips, over which sharp elongated cuspids protruded.  So entrancing was her sublime elegance that she could spend months fixated on her reflection.  Her lover Alphonse had bestowed the embrace that would make the rest of eternity theirs.
 
“Callista, dear.  Your father and I wish to speak with you.”
 
Her parents respected her privacy, for the most part.  These visits had become less frequent as the years coasted by.  She left her childhood bedroom undisturbed, a forgotten innocence under its layers of accumulated dust.
 
The elderly couple awaited in twin recliners as a muted television flickered.  Her father Thomas greeted her with a wide smile, deepening the lifelong lines etched in his face.  Esther, her mother, laid her crochet hook to rest on her lap.
 
“We’ve been talking this over.  You know we only want you to be happy, no matter what happens,” said Esther.
 
“Yes, part of the reason your mother and I got back together.”  Thomas took his wife’s hand across the armrest.
 
“We know you’re an adult now, capable of making your own decisions.”  The words strained on Esther’s breath.  “So we’ve decided.  If this is what you truly want, then we will support you.”
 
“And we wish you and Alphonse… the best.”
 
Thomas closed his eyes as his head slumped forward in his final nod.  The pulse had faded from Esther alongside him.  Their expressions hardened into pallid skeletal masks that crumbled to dust, swirling amid brittle bones.
 
People’s faces flashed in and out like a blur.  That was before her brother Matt moved into the old house.  The structure and its sole inhabitant had both grown bent and creaky with age.  That and their pipes leaked, Matt would often joke.
 
“I know it’s not much, but I made your favorite from when we were kids.”  Matt brought out a platter of homemade fish sticks with tartar sauce.  “Oh, uh, right.  I forgot.”  Matt smacked his forehead and chuckled.
 
“That’s okay,” said Callista.  Human food was a thing of the past.
 
“Well, awful shame to have nobody to share these with.”  Matt sat down and helped himself.  “I swear, we never shared anything when we were kids.  There was my stuff, and stuff I took from you.  Your diary, or the heads off your dolls.”
 
“No hard feelings.”  Callista could say that without lying.
 
“You always were the nicer one, you know that?”  Sweat dripped from Matt’s forehead and down his reddened face.  “No matter what I did…”
 
He panted and tried to clear his throat.  Both hands tightened over his chest, neck veins bulging, as he fell to his knees.  His body convulsed before settling into a contorted heap beside the coffee table.  The buzzing blowflies descended in swarms to feast upon their offering.
 
She could not afford to dwell on such things.  Laughter and sounds of children playing outside punctuated the late spring day.  She threw open the front door and invited the sunlight onto her face, which served only to embellish her ageless beauty.
 
Her nephew Timothy had grown up since, and reached a crucial point in his life.  The decision to enlist after he graduated from high school was his alone.  Callista got to see him in uniform six months later before they shipped him overseas.
 
A roadside bomb had left few remains to recover.  Such a waste of good blood.  A bugle intoned the familiar melody of Taps as fellow servicemen bore his flag-draped coffin in a token service.  The crows convened like stalwart watchmen, deprived of their chance to pick the scraps.
 
Callista gazed towards the heavens, light raindrops streaming down her youthful face like tears.  Gray skies swirled along with the rest of her surroundings, like a hurricane.  The epicenter of the storm came into focus as the right eye of her companion Alphonse, who beckoned her return, bringing the vision to an abrupt end.
 
The fog draped forest reappeared around her.  Alphonse removed his hand from Callista’s forehead.
 
“What… was that?”  She drew deep breaths to regain her bearings.
 
“My past, and your future.”  Alphonse tucked his pale hand beneath his dark flowing cloak.  “Should you choose to walk into the eternal night with me.”
 
“I don’t understand.  Is that what’s going to happen?”
 
Alphonse narrowed his eyes a twitch.  “It is inevitability.”
 
“But I want to be like you.”
 
“Truly now?”  The words carried a grave admonition.  “To be despised and hunted for who you are?  To have to bury your friends and loved ones and watch the world slowly wither away?”
 
Callista balled up her fists and stamped her foot.  “I don’t care about any of that!”
 
Alphonse turned aside and shook his head.  “Then you are more heartless than ever I imagined.”
 
“But… No Alphonse, wait!  I want to be with you forever!”
 
He leapt into the night sky and vanished.  The sound of fluttering leathery wings trailed off and was lost beneath the chorus of crickets.  That was the last Callista ever saw of him.

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©2010 Conan Young