a strange morning

She squinted into the too-bright rays of the early morning sun. Her hair was still damp from the shower she had only just left moments before.

“What was that sound?” she whispered to herself. It was low like something you are not quite sure you are hearing. No, it wasn’t a sound, it was a vibration. She stood and she listened. Nothing. It was gone.

She couldn’t stand out here in the towel she had hastily grabbed when the sound or the vibration or whatever it was, drew her outside. The neighbours didn’t concern her. No, it was autumn and a chill had already settled over the town. Early in the morning was not a time to be draped in a thin layer of cloth, standing on the front lawn. She went back inside, to the bathroom, to dry her hair and get dressed.

She flipped on the hair dryer. It was that kind of warm that makes you feel…

There it is again, that sound. But it can’t be a sound. “It can’t be Fi, the dryer’s too loud.” A vibration then. From what?

It grows stronger. “A quake, it must be..but nothing’s shaking. I can feel it though, inside.”

A moment later and Fiona’s body begins quaking. Not a seizure like she had when she was younger, no it’s a shaking, so strong she is forced to drop to the floor or risk being thrown down. Her entire body can offer no resistance to the force surging through it. She begins to feel afraid that something inside her will break with the violence of it.

Then it stops.

Fiona lies on the floor, breathing hard as if she had just run all the way home from the mall. There is a taste she can recognise. Blood. Her nose is bleeding and not only her nose. Blood, barely more than a trickle but blood nonetheless, is slowly trickling from her ears, her mouth, even from the corners of her eyes. She stands carefully. She feels weak but not weak enough to have a chance of falling. She can feel a trickling down her legs. It trickles from her, front and back, to the floor. Even her nipples slowly drip.

Something begins to draw her towards the bathroom doorway. Nobody is there but she is being drawn. She tries to grasp the edge of the door as she goes but she only manages to take her robe off the hook on the back of it.

There is no pain only a force she can’t resist pulling Fiona across the living room towards the house’s back door. She can slip on her robe and tie it but nothing can stop her steady, slow, movement forward. She even spreads her arms to hold hard onto the doorframe but she is forced to leg go when she realises this, whatever it is pulling her, will easily break her arms is she does not.

When she is standing in the middle of her backyard the pulling stops. She is free to move again but she finds herself unable to do anything. So she sits, hard, on the grass and cries. She cries for an hour or more, shivering from the cold morning breeze. The bleeding has stopped although she has it all over her, soaking through the robe.

Fiona sits there, in the yard, crying, for almost two hours before she is able to stand and go back inside. Any feelings of vibration or any other than normal forces have gone. She runs the shower to hot, close to scalding, and steps inside the stall. Water, red then pink then clear flows down her body.

Whatever it was has gone.

~ ^-^ ~

Some things you try and feel inspired. Others you try and feel somehow flat. This is one idea/snippet that leaves me flat. There’s a germ of an idea there but not enough to take a lot of time working on. I guess it’s not really my thing. I love suspense but this seems to sci-fi for me.

If you enjoyed it or have some insight I may have missed, please express. I love hearing.

Elise ^_^

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2 responses to “a strange morning

  1. Not “flat” for me. Unfinished. Not necessarily sci-fi, though. Only your unconscious would know. But sometimes ideas just fizzle, even when they seem promising, no? And sometimes they need time to gestate, not be brought to ligght before their time. be

    • Yes, the snatches of ideas seem to fall over each other at times not knowing what they want to be. That’s why it’s fun to play with them here. So many little scraps of paper lie about the place with, sometimes, only a single word on them. You may find the same thing. It’s so great to have another’s perpective. Thanks so much for stopping by. Elise

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