Stay, a Flash Fiction

He set his mug on the former family table near the one that was already there. Poured coffee in both and spooned a dried red-green spice mix into hers.

Her shivering hands gripped the other mug, skin sagging by the knuckles, nails long and intertwining. She spoke in tremorous tones through slack lips.

“She cannot come back.”

He lifted the mug, her hands locked around it, to her mouth to guide the potion in.

“Binding me . . . won’t bring her back.”

His heavy sigh could have broken glass. “You took her from me,” he muttered, “but you didn’t intend to stay?”

This flash fiction story was written for Loren Eaton’s Advent Ghost Storytelling.

7 thoughts on “Stay, a Flash Fiction”

  1. Thank you. I didn’t deliberately include a fae reference, but how do you see it? The woman abducted or killed his wife/daughter/mother and he has caught her and bound her as the only judgement he can hold her to.

    1. Thanks, Kel. I like yours as well. You had another one about a dog next to a dying man’s bed. Kudos there. It’s moving.

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