Posted in Audacious Notebook, Flash Fiction, Raw Fiction, Word Tickets, Writing

Audacious Notebook 11.14.19

Papaya blinked in the sunshine. It had been a long night of harvesting. Her song had warned three people of their impending deaths. None of them would heed her warning and get their shit together. Guaranteed. 

One soul she had collected from an unfortunate human who thought a lone woman at night was easy prey. He had learned his lesson…painfully. Four more souls had joined her somber parade from the local hospital. Papaya hated doing these odd jobs for death, but the magic he paid her in was enough to keep her ethereal patchwork together. If she could find one true believer she would be restored to her former glory. These days, Belief was mythically impossible to find. So Papaya existed on whispers. Her once powerful voice had faded until she feared silence above all else. 

The gates of the underworld were hidden next to the stage doors of every theater in every city. Death loved to misquote Willy Shakespeare: “Life is but a stage and humans are here to entertain me.” Someone currying Death’s favor had cross stitched his favorite quote. He had laughed and granted their small favor. The cross stitched piece now hung behind his desk in his office. No one could say that Death didn’t have a sense of humor. 

Papaya led the five souls to the gates and ushered them through. After the last soul had passed through, several actors burst out of the stage door she was standing near. They didn’t see her, but they heard her soft wailing. They joked about the ghost of the theater and scrambled off to find breakfast. 

  • patchwork perks
  • ethereal 
  • whispers 
  • banshee 
  • scramble 
  • sunshine papaya

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Copyright 2019 Klaudia Grady

Posted in Audacious Notebook, Flash Fiction, Raw Fiction, Word Tickets, Writing

Audacious Notebook 11.07.19

Mara Kesh took a deep breath. She could feel the euphoria threatening to over take her, but she fought it down. She sat in her black pant suit and struggled to stay still. The laughter caught in her throat and she dabbed at her eyes to mask her joy as sorrow. People came and talked at her. She nodded bleakly and accepted their words. Some she even allowed to embrace her. Mara fought to remain numb. Fought to hide the exhiliration she felt inside. A slash of light fell across the casket as the sun began to set. The sun’s rays moved across the walls and somehow Mara remained still. She kept her dancing feet trapped inside her sensible shoes. The last mourner came and went and finally she was alone in the immense room. Tissues littered the tables. Chairs had been pulled askew as people had found conversation inside their grief circles. Mara let out a sigh of relief. She smiled for the first time in four hours. She was free. She was finally an orphan. She was finally free of a family that had felt like a prison for thirty years. Her father lay inside the coffin. The mortician had somehow covered up the stink of his evil. She must be some sort of magician to cover all that toxic nonsense with nothing more than paint and pigment. Mara unpinned her hair and took a deep breath of her new life. Soon her father would be nothing more than a bag of bones. She wished him the afterlife he deserved and gathered up her things. Today was the first day of the rest of her life.

  • orphan 
  • father 
  • euphoria 
  • slash 
  • Marakesh 
  • slash 
  • bag of bones

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Copyright 2019 Klaudia Grady