Mark A Morris is the Readers’ Choice in this week’s Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Challenge. The winning entry is decided by the popular vote and rewarded with a special feature here today. (In case of a tie, the writer who submitted an entry first is the winner per our rules.) Without further ado, here’s the winning story:
by Mark A Morris
The drumbeats quickened. He thought he could hear someone’s breath on the breeze, matching tempo with their rhythm. The hedges were taller here, tall enough to hide the sun, rendering everything between them in monochrome. He’d begun to feel disoriented, confused. If only he could find something he could take a fix on. That would be helpful, even if it was something temporary like a cloud. He hated not knowing where he was.
He remembered the tea he’d drunk, the spices it had been laced with. Elodie had spilled hers, knocking her cup to the ground. She’d run away from him then, returning to the house for more china, cursing in French in that way that aroused him. She’d said she’d be back again soon, but that he shouldn’t wait. His tea would be better for him if he drank it hot, and that she was a moose.
That had been an hour ago, maybe more. He’d begun to regret giving up his phone when they’d entered, Elodie slipping it into her pocket. She’d taken his watch from him too, laughing as she did, wrapping it around her slim wrist. He was to be hers for the rest of the day, she’d said. He should let her be in control, surrender himself to her.
He’d been deliriously happy then, not a doubt in his head. Maybe he should have stayed where he’d been a little longer. Been more patient.
And what was it with those drums? Why had they started?