Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy

Sand

May 30th 2017 in Microfiction

“Earth, hold her fast, down in the mud.” “Air, blow her hair around her face, disorienting her.” “Fire, mess with the flames of the grill, so that everyone is distracted.” “Water, fill her lungs.” Esther whispered the call into the wet sand where she had drawn the symbols. Enid Schnaebel would eventually totter down to the lake’s edge and step in, but she was momentarily busy torturing her other children. Esther took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Please let this be the last miserable picnic,” she whispered, feeling only desperation where nostalgia should be. The elements felt her pain, accepted it, and trembled in anticipation (sifting over the sand symbols to hide them).


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