Running: Flash Fiction


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I sit here at my desk and twirl my elm wand as I create a water lily. Honestly, I do not know why I like that bloody flower, but I do. My husband used to bring me them from the pond he had built just outside our property line. We couldn’t have the pond on the property because of some if the rituals we did. Being necromancers, powerful ones at that, the lilies would have disintegrated into dust every time we did a ritual. Thus, to make sure he could bring me them when he fancied, the pound was built off our property. I flicked my wand and set the water lily ablaze. I roughly wiped the tear that fell down my cheek and stood up and left the study. I was leaving the house. Moving away from the memories. I had never felt so powerless than the night my husband was murdered. A thousand years and my heart still burns. I never saw immortality as a curse until I realized I couldn’t spend it with the love of my youth.

I walked to my car. I snorted as I looked at it. After all, I have been around since before Christ. However, those GPS units are a lot handier than roadmaps, especially when one is alone and can’t read a map and drive. I turned the key and pressed the button to start the directions towards my new home away, finally, from my past.

Six hours later I stopped at a truck stop. I walked in, used the restroom, and walked around the place to stretch. Almost twenty-five hundred years old, though I barely look twenty, I need to move my limbs more than a standard mortal. I snorted at the choppers that one would see on television. Why would anybody need that? But the place had everything from twine to glass and plastic trinkets. Why I would never understand and I had spent centuries being a nomad.

I soon grabbed some water and snacks, paid for them and my gas, and left. Strange places truck stops, all walks of life gather there, reminds me of watering holes in ancient times. I drove off shaking myself out of the thoughts of my past.

Thirty hours later, and a few more stops, I parked in front of my new home, sleek, modern, and across the country. So different than any other house I owned. Running from my past, mostly. I stood in the back yard with my elm wand pointed to the ground, and created ad pond with water lilies. My only reminder of my past. But then again, I always had a soft spot for the flower my husband gave me, always. For eternity… just like I would live. Immortality had never seemed a curse… until it was.

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