Flash fiction written for JD Mader's 2minutes go writingexercise... It's every Friday-Sunday, so if you fancy writing something - whatever you feel like - head over there, or just read the flash fiction and poetry.
Moral code
Come
what may, those are the lessons we have to learn, he stated, settling too long
on the word “morality”. The room spun on a revolving desk woven with autumnal
leaves; a veritable feast of reds, oranges and yellow, sliding like liquid ink
towards the swirl of the thick carpet, in contrast to the hollow beige of the man,
from his wispy hair to his sharp suit, far too short in the leg. Did he
actually wink at me as he spoke, the curl of his lips seeming to reveal
something else?
I looked again and the colourful cloth resumed its everyday
appearance, but the flaming red still sounded a warning. I backed away towards
the window and the rigid black ornamental feline perched there. As Mr Brown
strode towards the door, the cat’s stiffness slunk away and she sank down on
the sill, back into Sphinx mode, eyeing me in empathy. I could have sworn she
smiled.
Once he’d left, I took the sealed, stamped letter out of my pocket and
reread the stick blue scrawl, asking for Elizabeth Main. So she hadn’t
forgotten me over these nine long, silent months. Her confinement at an end, it
was only a matter of days before she’d walk through the front door and
everything could go back to normal, and he’d be sent packing whence he came.
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, June 1, 2018
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