*****
The latest Clarity of Night contest is over.
I did enter. I didn’t expect to win. But I liked the short I came up with anyway.
The process was sort of like this, over a period of weeks:
“Maybe I should enter. A challenge might do me good.”
“Nah.”
“The brain could use a little stimulation.”
“It’s the holidays. Get real.”
“Holidays over. Some nice entries there.”
“It’s too late. You’ll never come up with anything decent.”
“Hey, I’ve got a premise.”
“It’s too late.”
“If I don’t do something with it, I’ll just be pissed off at myself.”
“Fine. Knock yourself out.”

The final short story is posted after the break below.
And I’m blogging at the CHICAS site today. Please join us.

SPECIAL

“Mom always said I was different ‘coz I was special. The stranger agreed. Was that wrong?”

I liked Doc Burdett’s office. It had ash-white bones, warm wooden walls, and water trickling over rocks. And he never made a fuss, which made Doc special to me.

“Did he say anything dirty, Sarah?”

“No. He just brought the announcement.”

“Annunciation.” Mom clutched her purse, kinda scared-like. “Annunciation was the word she used.”

“Sarah? Who is ‘he’?”

“The dark man who comes to my bed.”

“She says she has a lover. Thirty-two hours in labor, and she lies to me.”

“She’s twenty-one, Adele. Being oxygen-deprived at birth didn’t stifle her hormones.” He gave me that look that men do, the one that makes Mom twitch.

“Impossible. I’m with her every waking minute.”

“Some fella shinny up her downspout?”

“You treated anybody with my shotgun up his ass?”

Doc Burdett wiped his mouth. “Sarah? Tell me what happens.”

“Feathered fingers on my window. Brittle taps against the glass. He lies on me ‘til he’s all heated honey-sweet skin, and rocks inside me ‘til dawn. Then there’s just wide, purple-black wings, and he’s gone.”

“Masturbating,” Doc said promptly. “Let her be. Fantasy may be all she ever has. You know what it’s like to be alone, Adele.”

Mom was calmer after that. I was glad Doc could help her. Especially now that I can feel something growing, fluttering deep in my belly.

There’ll probably be a fuss. ‘Coz I think it’s gonna be special too.