First Friday Flash

Having slowly gathered a sufficient stock of courage, piece by piece (word by word?) and witnessed the congeniality and mutual encouragement that the #fridayflash folks bring, I've decided to inaugurate this long-empty page by posting a flash story that seemed suitable for Halloween. Of course, I had no sooner decided that than I saw this #fridayflash submission: Guardian

Go read that one first, I think you'll like it - I did, and it nearly stopped me from posting the story below for reasons that will become obvious if you read them both. But eventually I decided that they were sufficiently different in tone, and I had the comfort that I'd written mine long before seeing "Guardian". A month ago, in fact - as I mentioned, it takes me a while to gather up that courage. It does make me wonder about the coincidence - what is it about cats that would inspire two different writers in such a similar way? Perhaps that's the scariest part of both stories. . .

At any rate, here's my first attempt at a Friday Flash:


Smooth water. . .

Warm sun. . .

Still grass. . .

Her teacher's smooth tones wafted through her slowly settling mind, repeating the now-familiar mantras with her. A gentle admonition to his young student, a subtle reminder that helped her reach the necessary state of calm. This had been her sole hurdle; all the other lessons had been easy, almost laughable. Slowing her thoughts, holding the distractions at a safe distance, finding the focus that would let her see - that had been her challenge. And so great a task that she had nearly failed, would have but for his help.

Now, half a life later, the challenge remained each time she assumed her post. Her body lay in a posture of rest, designed to fool anyone who happened to chance across her, to hide the fact that each limb was perfectly placed, each muscle tensioned or relaxed according to the teachings of the great masters. She smiled inwardly, proud of the years of practice she'd spent to achieve such perfection.

Ah, the voice of her teacher again, gently reminding her that she must clear her mind, not allow it to wander into thickets of emotion and memory. He'd had such an ability to see her thoughts. How she missed him, now. But that was another path she mustn't take. A slow breath, and soon. . .

"Hey, where's the cat?"

No! Not another distraction! A flash of anger, splashing like a stone dropped into her still thoughts.

"I dunno. She came in, I didn't see her after that."

"Is she down there with you?"

"No, I think she's in the basement again."

"I looked down there, didn't see her. . ."

Her teacher had anticipated this, had taken the advanced students through drills in which their meditation was interrupted time and again. She knew the ways to reassert her training, and with an effort began again. White clouds. . .

Some time passed. She never knew how much, and it had little meaning inside her fugue. Different senses, created by the trance, let her see an infinitesimal change in the quality of the shadows before her. No more than a flicker, and yet she knew. Waited for it to manifest itself, assume a form that she could. . . attack! A silent leap and the feeling of cold, slick wetness. Her unsheathed blades struck, sliced, kept it from retreating while she raked along its writhing form. A scream that only she could hear, and it was gone.

Her heart raced, as always, and she allowed herself the small congratulation that her teacher had permitted, and that no one else would give her. No one else would know of this battle, of another penetration turned back at the border. This was the lot of the guards, one she had long ago accepted.

She quickened her steps, leaping the last way and pushing the door open. A blink at the light, and she opened her mouth to smell the comforting familiarity, shake off the remnant of the indescribable chill she'd felt from her enemy.

"Oh, hey, here she is. She was in the basement after all. Here, girl, what a good kitty, yes you, little sweetie!"

"Wonder why she likes it so much down there? Spends hours just lying on the cold floor. Eh, I guess that's just how they are."