#friday flash 44 and WAG: Broken

Double posting this week for WAG and fridayflash. The prompt was: "This week write about something broken: toys, bones, hearts: it can be anything that just doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to any more."
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Breena's Wand

The fairy's eyes widened in dismay as she looked at her wand. Broken. That was it. She was sure to be expelled. This time. How does one even break a wand? Aren't they supposed to be indestructible?

Two of the other fairies glided past. Gracefully, the way fairies are supposed to be. But the comments they made were hurtful.

"Oh dear, what have you done now?" Breena turned, knowing the voice behind her all too well. Her sister Celie. Gorgeous, graceful, magical. All the things fairies should be. She even already had glitter on her wings! Breena feared she would never earn her glitter, and Celie took every opportunity to reinforce that fear. "Have you broken your wand? I didn't even know that was possible!" Celie's voice rang loudly with false surprise. "Well just look at us girls breaking all kinds of records -- I get my glitter younger than any fairy in history, and you become the first fairy ever to break a wand." Having drawn the attention of all the fairies in hearing distance to her sister's failure, Celie turned with a musical laugh and floated away, followed as always by her flock.

Breena looked down, avoiding the eyes of those who watched with pity or superiority, and wished fervently that she could disappear into the ground. Of course if she hadn't broken her wand, she might've had a chance at making it happen. But no, if she was honest with herself, she'd never even really mastered the most basic skill of invisibility.

Breena, come see me. The voice she heard in her head was that of her queen. It was not one to be ignored.

She walked to the palace, too upset to put the effort into floating. It took her longer, but she figured that since it might be her last time it was ok to stretch it a little.

The gates opened as she approached. She thanked them automatically and continued through to the crystal palace, stopping briefly to right a little plant that had fallen.

The throne room was crowded but it fell silent as she entered. Word had spread, the way it will, and everybody wanted to see what would happen.

"Bree," the gentle whisper had her raising her eyes briefly, "it'll be ok," Elvina told her. Elvina was the only friend Breena had. She had spent hours trying to help her learn the most basic magic, and when she was around the other fairies were less cruel; Elvina was powerful enough that she could befriend whom she wished. But even her presence wasn't enough to lift the weight from Breena's heart.

She forced herself to float, it would've been rude to walk in the presence of the queen, and made her way up the aisle. At the queen's throne she bowed her head and waited to be addressed as she'd been taught. The silence stretched on. Breena was tempted to risk a glance just to check that she was really there, but before she could do it and get in even more trouble, the queen spoke.

"What is it you want to do most?" the queen asked. Breena looked up at her puzzled, her fears temporarily allayed by the unexpected question. The queen did not elaborate and Breena took her time considering the answer. Her immediate response was that she wanted to be allowed to stay. But she knew the queen already knew that, and it was never a good idea to insult the queen's intelligence or waste her time. So she thought before speaking.

"I want to be a good fairy. I want to help people," she stated. And quickly dropped her eyes again as the crowd started tittering. Helping people was not something fairies were supposed to aspire to.

Silence fell, and when Breena risked a sideways glance, all the fairies were gone. Only she and Elvina remained in the presence of the queen.

Breena, look at me. The voice was in her head again. When she looked up, the queen smiled -- a powerful sight, and one rarely seen. "You're not going to be expelled," she told the fairy out loud, "but we do have to do something about this. Give me your wand." Even from the queen, and even with a broken wand, this was an exceptional order. To possess a fairy's wand was to control them; giving it up was almost unheard of and asking for it a line never crossed. Breena felt Elvina's presence behind her, silently supporting and encouraging. And she gave her wand to her queen.

Thank you little one. That shows a great deal of trust. Breena's eyes remained fixed on her wand. It was though somebody had borrowed an arm or a leg; it was physically painful to be so far from it, and very scary. "Now let's just see if I can mend this," and the queen did something Breena had never seen before. She very carefully removed a strand of glitter-covered gold from her wing. Only the fairy queen had gold in her wings; that was how one became queen. A fairy queen earned her gold after earning her glitter, but how was a closely guarded secret evidently known only by those who had done it.

The queen held the two pieces of the broken wand together and wrapped the golden strand around it multiple times. In the end it looked like a wand wearing a really thick belt in the middle. Then, with a tap of the queen's wand, the belt disappeared and Breena's wand appeared healed. It floated back into Breena's waiting hand, and her eyes widened as she held it and felt the power flow through. She looked at the queen, amazed. "It's stronger."

"Often things that have been broken and survived are. Use it well," the queen told her. And with a nod, Breena was dismissed.

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WAG and #FridayFlash 40: Fish Out of Water

Originally posted for WAG, I'm sharing for FridayFlash too mostly becaue it was one of those ones that left me shaking my head wondering "where did that come from?" and thankful I don't have a shrink to analyze it *g*

For those who are interested in such things, the challenge was: Sometimes it’s easy to tell when someone is out of their element. It can be their clothing, their manner, what they’re carrying with them… so many things give them away. This week, observe (or create) someone who is out of place and describe what tells you they’re a fish out of water. Your target can be a tourist, someone who is in an unfamiliar place/situation, someone at a new workplace, or any of a million times in our lives we can end up somewhere we’ve never been before.

Let me know what you think!

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A Fish Out of Water

“Like a fish out of water,” the woman said as she walked by. As if she couldn’t hear. As if it wouldn’t hurt.

She knew she was different, of course, but would it really be so hard for them to accept her? She expected it from her peers. Children are cruel, and teenagers evil her mother had told her, but when it came from the adults it made the situation seem particularly hopeless. Even if she did outgrow it, there would never be acceptance.

“Don’t go near the river.” It was the only truly unbreakable law. But how was she to know that? They’d only just moved in. Oh sure, she’d been told, but how serious a rule was it? I mean compared to don’t take drugs and stay away from strangers, going to see the river hardly seemed tragic.

And it probably wouldn’t’ve been if it hadn’t been for the other kids. Teenagers now, but mere children at the time. Picking on the new kid and flirting with danger all at once. What could be better? When they pushed her in, nothing was hurt but her pride. She could swim – and it was only a few inches deep anyways. She’d only swallowed a mouthful.

She’d been pleased by the horror on the adults’ faces; thinking for sure her tormentors would be punished. Until she realized the horror was directed at her.
She went home wet and alone. Her parents dried her off and assured her it’d get better. They might’ve even thought they were telling the truth.

That night she awoke choking. Her lungs screamed as she gasped desperately for air. She faded gratefully into unconsciousness as her father desperately applied the little CPR he could recall from a long ago first aid class and her mother ran for any assistance she could find.

They would tell her later what had happened. They would tell her about their elderly landlady insisting they fill a bath tub and put her in it. About how they were so scared of losing her, they tried it. They would tell her how terrified they were by her first transformation and how the wise woman warned them to be there at daybreak to get her out of the water.

They had to tell her because she couldn’t remember. And then she remembered all too well, as every night and every morning was met with terrifying suffocation and her days and nights were spent in fear.

It lasted until the gills broke through behind her ears. Once that happened she could manage the transformation far more smoothly. With that ability she began to venture out on her own; swimming and exploring the aqua world that was rapidly becoming home. Before long, she was spending her human days longing for her aquatic nights in the river where she was, if not entirely accepted, at least not shunned; she could move about the various social classes being claimed by none but accepted by all. Such was the way of the sea. By day, however, she was treated as though she were less – rather than more – than human. To them, she would forever be nothing more than a slightly unusual fish out of water.

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#FridayFlash 38 and WAG - First day of the rest of your life

Possibly my shortest flash yet *g*

Sometimes it's the little things in life that make all the difference . . .

This is possibly my shortest flash yet *g* Let me know what you think -- short though it is, does it stand on its own?

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The first day of the rest of your life

"I think you may be the woman of my dreams; can I take you to lunch?" he asked the woman standing next to him at the lights with what he hoped was a boyish smile.

Christina considered the attractive man, "So what traits do I share with the woman of your dreams?" she asked with one eyebrow raised, buying time to decide how to answer the unexpected invite.

"You're energetic, as evidenced by the fact that you're out walking, you're confident and kind enough to humour a complete stranger hitting on you, and to top it off, you're stunningly gorgeous; like I said, the woman of my dreams."

Amused both by the comments and by the fact that she found herself reluctantly flattered by them, Christina gave a slow nod.

"So where are you taking me for lunch?"

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Friday Flash Fiction #36 and WAG: Last Day

The prospective client walked into the office, started to speak to her boss, then saw Karen and visibly blanched. Inwardly she sighed, outwardly she smiled. "Hi, I'm Karen Castleman," she walked forward with her hand outstretched. He hesitated noticeably before taking it, "I see you've met my sister Casey," she mentioned with a wry grin.

"Your sister?" he asked hesitantly.

"Twins," Karen told him, "and complete opposites."

He still looked very nervous, "Mr. Goff, if you know my sister at all, could you ever see her doing a mundane job like this? Sorry Michael," she flashed a grin at her boss as she shrugged off the high-stress VP position she'd worked so hard to earn, "but compared to Casey, I may as well be a soccer mom."

"I didn't even know you had a sister?" Michael asked.

"I don't anymore; Casey died five years ago on assignment in Mexico." At her boss's stunned look, Karen felt the need to elaborate, "She was thoroughly involved in alphabet soup; worked for several of the three-letter agencies, and God only knows who else. And it eventually got her killed. They say the brightest flames burn the fastest. Well Casey got ambition, power, intelligence and strength. I got time."

"Karen you're hardly lacking any of those," Michael reminded her.

"Not compared to the average person perhaps," she said without the least hint of ego, "but compared to her I was but a shadow." There was no self-pity in her voice; she was merely stating a fact.

"Can you do what she could do?" Mr. Goff questioned.

"No, Casey got all the talent in our family." Michael looked puzzled but let it go, especially as the client seemed to relax. The meeting continued on a far more traditional note. Karen wasn't sure they'd be able to overcome the inauspicious beginning and land the account, but it certainly ended on a far more positive note than it had begun.

Karen finished out her day as always. As she got ready to go home, she was a little more careful than usual about gathering her stuff; into her briefcase went her extra shoes, her coffee mug, and her digital picture frame. In that frame was a flash card that held many of her favourite photos. It also held the company financial records and intricate personal notes on every client and the evidence to destroy the company who was helping them funnel drug money.

Michael watched from his office window as Karen left for the day. She was sharp, and she worked hard. But he was going to have to let her go; he couldn't afford any connections, no matter how tenuous, to the three letter agencies. If her sister was dead, it should be ok. But could he trust that she really was? He picked up Karen's file off the desk, scanning for any reference to a connected sister. Karen Castleman. KC. Casey. And as the pieces fell into place, Michael’s heart skipped a beat. With shaking hands he picked up the phone and made a short call. Then he packed his bag as carefully as Karen had.

Neither of them would be returning to the office the next day. And only one of them would be alive to worry about it.

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