Yominokuni & I Am Myth

 

Yominokuni

From the dockside Emma-O watched crested horses leaping over the lurching ferry’s bow. A grey cloak of rain concealed the rest of existence and, not for the first time, Emma-O wished she had more than her umbrella to shield her. Yet as father had reminded her, first impressions counted.

Her phone purred in her hand distracting Emma-O from the vessel’s struggle, her twitter feed exploding with doom-laden hashtags.

#Typhoon
#D3struct10n
#Tsunami
#Deathcount

So many lost souls, yet all Emma-O could do was keep to her routine, trust that people would survive nature’s onslaught.

For what was she without people?

The boat docked, ropes thrown, tethering the swaying vessel to land, a gangplank extending out. Tentatively the first of the passengers disembarked, rain slickening skin and clothing.

“Welcome everybody, sorry about the conditions.”

Silently they gathered on the dock, confused, uncertain.

“Are we all here? Excellent, well just follow my umbrella and mind your step.”

Emma-O led them away into eternity.

 

I Am Myth

The rain danced upon Hinata’s umbrella, the greying skies a refrain to the melancholy in her heart. It was foolish to mourn. For so long death and destruction had blighted the land. Yet as she had cast the last victim into the dark turbulent river below she felt only regret.

It seemed inconceivable that once she cruised for temptation in neon lit realms, flitting between gyrating bodies. The world filled to the brim with potential.

Now there was just her.

Hinata dropped her umbrella, rain slickening skin as she slipped the gas mask off her face. Her ally that had disguised her on those nights of hunting yet was now inconsequential within a realm of solitude.

Hinata breathed in deep, dead batteries filling her lungs, toxins rushing to corrode her veins. She knew she could have carried on, scavenging, eking out an existence.

Yet what’s the point of a serial killer when there was nothing left to kill?

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5 comments

  1. I really enjoyed both your stories this week. Take heart: I didn’t place, either! Then, my story wasn’t as good as either of yours, but it was still a lot of fun to write. I loved the idea of ‘Death’ checking out social media as the typhoon rages and I loved the last line of your second piece, too. Excellent stuff.

    • Thanks SJ, wasn’t downhearted as such, just such competition, like static + white noise, though the voices that I read each week demonstrate the validity of flash fiction as an art form, hell there’s always next week! Thank for reading and your comments really appreciated x

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