#TuesFlashFicTrain: Transformations

Hey ya'll!  I had a short hiatus there as I was down in New Orleans for my graduation.  Now I gotta help finish Rita's story on #TuesFlashFicTrain.  The link here will take you to the previous parts of the story as well as other submissions for how her story should end.  Here's my ending coming in at exactly 400 words.

                Everything froze.  Glass shards twinkled in mid-air like tiny stars reflecting the bright heat of her rage.  The first drops of blood that had begun to stream from their eyes hung like macabre parade streamers.

                “Rita.”

                She looked up.  The old woman was shaking her head as she stood up.  Her form blurred as she moved toward Rita.  By the time she’d crossed the short distance to stand in front of Rita, the old woman had become a stunning raven-haired woman in her thirties.

                “Morrigan,” Rita whispered.

                “Did you not recognize me?”

                “I’ve never seen you as an old woman.”

                Morrigan shook her head, “Where is your awareness of power?  Surely you sensed mine.”

                Rita paused.  She had felt something.  That was what brought up those memories.  It wasn’t the eyes; it was Morrigan’s power that conjured the eyes.

                “Forgive me.  I should have known.”

                “You know I am Death; therefore, not so very forgiving.”

                Rita bowed her head.  Death was never lenient and she knew it.  She’d known it back when all of this started.  Part of her regretted her choice back then.  So many things would have been different.  Easier.

                “Come, child.  Do not regret your choice to serve me.  I may not be forgiving but I am not unreasonable.  I know the pain you have suffered in my name.  The memories my presence stirred up.”

                Rita began to sob.  She would have fallen had Morrigan not caught her and guided her to a seat.  Certain Morrigan had left by the time Rita could breathe again, she squared her shoulders and braced herself to face the mess she’d created.

                Looking up, Rita blinked several times, uncertain what to do.  Morrigan still sat across from her.  Death was patient, or so it seemed.

                “I can give you peace.”

                “I’m not certain I’m ready for that.”

                “Not death, my dear, though I could make that an option if you wished.  I have another option; a plan if you’re willing.”

                “Will it give me peace from this torment?”

                “It will.”

                “Then I am willing.”

                Morrigan crossed the aisle and wrapped her arms around Rita.  A bright light filled the bus.  When it dimmed, Rita was gone.  In her place was an iridescent black raven.

                “Go, my child.  Be at peace.  I will find you when I have need of you.”

                The raven flew away.  The bus continued down the road unharmed.

#TuesFlashFicTrain: Down to Business

Picking up where I left off in last week's #TuesFlashFicTrain, Rita and Laura are just beginning a business call.  Stop by Trials and Tribulations of Writing Fiction to see other possible scenes that continue the story from last week and to catch up on the previous parts of the story if you haven't seen them yet.

                “Smith Sisters.  This is Rita.”

                “Are you both there?”

                “Yes, Mr. Orange.  Rita and I are both here,” Laura rolled her eyes.

                “And you’re in a public place?”

                “As requested,” Laura was glad Rita answered, and in a much politer tone than Laura figured she could manage with this potential contract.

                “Send me the proof of your, ah, charms shall we say.”

                Laura rolled her eyes again, this time at his lame attempt at a double entendre that fell quite flat.  She sent him several files via her open laptop.  Laura could see Rita was still a little distracted, so she started to prepare herself for the public demonstration request she knew was coming.

                And, just like clockwork, it came.  Laura both loved and hated this song and dance.  It was a necessary evil in hers and Rita’s line of work, but it was old.  She usually let Rita be in charge of this part, but Rita clearly wasn’t up for it right now.  Rita usually loved it.

                “Well?” he prompted from the cell phone.

                Rita nodded, giving Laura tacit permission and acknowledging she was in no position to perform the demonstration.  Rita picked up the phone and switched it to Face Time.  Laura took a deep breath and closed her eyes.  Several moments of still silence passed.   Then, Rita could see a subtle shift come over Laura.  The power was clear when Laura opened her eyes.

                Laura sauntered over to a table near Rita.  Rita discreetly kept the phone’s camera focused on Laura.  A business man was sitting at the table Laura picked.  He seemed to be waiting for something, or someone.  Rita couldn’t help but smile a little when Laura caught his attention.  The man started to pant, almost literally.  Laura was so good at this, much better than Rita.  Then again, that may be because Laura was always in control.  No matter what.

                “You have a contract,” came from the phone.

There are a few days left to get your response for the Don't Panic Picture Prompt in!  March 6th at 11:59 pm CST is it!

#TuesFlashFicTrain: Day Dreaming

It took me a bit to come up with my response for the Flash Fiction Train story today.  Let me know what you think, and be sure to check out other takes the next piece of this story over at Trials and Tribulations of Writing Fiction.

                “Walter!”

                “Excuse me, ma’am?”

                Rita shook her head, “I’m so sorry.  It’s Rita.”

The young man behind the register at Three Bean Coffee gave her one more odd glance before handing her the receipt and her change.  Coffee, a meeting, and a conference call.  Those were her tasks today.  Simple.  Straightforward.  Something she could normally do without thinking about it much at all.

Damn this cold and that noxious concoction.

Rita collected her coffee and set up shop at a table in the corner of the busy shop.  As she flipped open her laptop, a flitting shadow caught her eye.  Glancing up, her heart almost stopped.  Then the man kept going.  Jerking her attention back to her table, Rita knocked her coffee over.  She snatched up her laptop cursing to herself.

“Let me help.”

“Laura.  Thank the gods you’re here.”

“I can see this is not your morning.”

By this time Laura had the spilled java mopped up with several napkins, had rescued the paperwork from the doom of brown stain, and had her bag propped neatly in the spare chair across from Rita.

“That’s one way to put it,” Rita flopped back into her chair.

Laura returned in a few minutes with a new cup of coffee for Rita and a fancier drink Rita didn’t recognize for herself.

“Now, Rita.  What’s got you so flustered?  The conference call starts in ten minutes and we really need to be on this.”

“I know.  Part of it is this stupid cold I just can’t seem to shake.”

“And?”

Rita hesitated.

“You dreamed again last night, didn’t you?”

Silence.

“Rita!  You know what happens!”

“Laura.  I know.  But what else could I do?  That’s the only option I had to try to take care of this cold once and for all.”

“It didn’t work.”

“I’ve noticed.”

The women were interrupted by Rita’s cell phone chirping.  Their contact was calling.  Time for business.