Miranda Kate’s Mid-Week Challenge : 2017/09/10

They came through the walls, one black, one white, like good and evil, or perhaps darkness and light. There was no sound, no thundering of hooves, no cries of horses, not even the sound of them breathing. All I hear was silence, and perhaps my own heart beating.

I watched them race across the room, and vanish into the wall on the far side. As if they’d never been there, never existed. But I knew I’d seen them. As I sat there, staring at a the darkness of the night, wondering if I’d sleep any, or if sleep was a gift I would be denied that night, they’d come through one wall, and left through another.

I know they were real. I felt the air move as the raced through. Felt the floor shake and shudder from the pounding of their hooves. Saw the prints they left in the carpet, temporary and soon to fade away, so I would be the only one who saw them. As if a dream came to life. A race perhaps, of darkness and light.

What did it mean? What could it have been? Why had I seen them? Would my imagination create something like that? So real? The only thing missing being sound?

I spent hours that night, staring at the walls of my room, unable to sleep, unable to shake the feeling that my world would change on the day to come, leaving me forever changed.

There had been similar nights, with similar apparitions. The night so long ago, when I was still young, and saw Jupiter shining in the night, from the window of my room. The next day, my then girl friend told me we were through. My world had changed, and I was never the same.

Another night, when I stayed awake, and spoke with the cat, who patiently let me say anything I wished, so long as I scratched her ears, and tummy, and hugged her now and then. She’d fallen asleep on my lap, and I had refused to move until she woke. The lightning and thunder of a storm had awakened me several hours later, to find the cat had left my lap, and wandered to the dining room. I found her body there. My world had changed again, as I’d lost someone I’d truly loved.

My mother stood beside my at my computer one night, I couldn’t tell you the time, other than it was an absurd hour, on a night I was disturbed, and spent all night staring at meaningless words on a computer screen as I tried to find a way to sleep. I’d known I’d fail. And my mother silently walked up, and stood beside me, and held my hand. I never heard a sound, but I knew what she’d said. “Sleep my son. You’ll need your rest. It will all be OK. You’ll see.”

Dad called the next morning, while I slept on the floor next to my computer desk. I answered my cell phone. “Son. It’s me. Dad. You need to come home now. It’s Mom…”

And my life had changed again.

So I wondered, as I sat there, staring at the walls, and the darkness in the night. Would my world change the next day? Would anything ever be the same? What was it the horses had tried to say to me?

I knew, the only answer was to wait. To see what happened.

When tomorrow came.

577 Words

Miranda Kate‘s weekly short fiction challenge is in it’s 20th week. You can read about the challenge here. This week, I tried something different again Hope it’s worth the effort. Please, go read Miranda’s short tale this week, and any others that show up. They are always little works of art, crafted with words, meant to be shared, and enjoyed.


Miranda Kate’s Mid-Week Challenge : 2017/03/19

It is sad, to me.
How you can not see.
How to you,
Everything is the same.

I see the clouds you see.
The air, cold and empty.
The ground, dry and cracked.
The same as you.

I see the tracks
Along the ground.
The beginnings of a road,
That leads into the unknown.

It is sad to me.
To know the truth
That we do not see
The same things.
Even though we look
On the same world.

For your world is black and white.
There are no other colors.
Only rules.
Yes and no.
Good and evil.
Right and wrong.

You do not see
The pale blue sky,
Filled with clouds
Of many kinds.

All you only see the clouds.
Floating in nothing.
And they are white,
And happy.
Or Dark,
And angry.
Or some shade of gray.
As they move
From good to bad.
Or the other way.

You do not see
The cut made by tires
Through the dry, parched dirt.
Where a machine
Crushed everything
In its way.

Only only see
Another shade of gray.
Painted on the ground.
The only thing there is.
Anywhere around.

You do not see
The storm that lies ahead.
The colors you can’t see
Would tell you that.

All you see
Is the blackness of the clouds
Above your head.
All you know
Is the blackness is weaker
Up ahead.

Because to you
The world is black and white.
And only shades of gray.

And I can’t explain to you
The world I see.
And what I know
You’re headed for,
If you stay on course.

For you have no concept.
No understanding.
No knowledge.
Of the colors
That are so obvious to me.

All I can really do,
Is walk beside you.
And hope we find a way
To make it through
The storm that lies ahead.

For I find
I would not be me.
If I let you face that
On your own.

I find I can not let you
Fight the coming storm.


Miranda Kate has started a weekly short fiction challenge. You can read about it here. I’ve decided to write when I can. This is the second week in a row. Please, go read her short tale this week, and any others that show up.

#VisDare 14 : Normalcy

At the end of the walkway over the lake, we came to a set of tiny houses scattered along the shore of the lake. She stopped in front of one. “This is my home.” Inside, we sat down on a sofa, facing a white wall. I heard her in my head, “History. Start before the fall.”

Black and white Images appeared on the wall. “Taran. This is our history. Mine. Yours. everyone’s.” The images were absolutely terrifying. Huge buildings. Miles of them. No grass anywhere. Concrete and asphalt and glass. And people. Thousands upon thousands of them. Some of them had animal slaves, held to them by leashes, wrapped around their necks. Machines on wheels, filled with people were everywhere.

“Our ancestors believed they could do whatever they wanted.”

“But,” I finally spoke, “that’s insane!”

“It was. And it nearly lead to the end of all life on Earth.”

This is the 11th piece in a continuing story I’m working through for Angela Goff’s Visual Dare. Please read the other entries in this week’s Visual Dare challenge.