Writer's Corner: Flash Fiction

I need to do more stuff here! So I'm posting something of a short-story-veering-more-toward-flash-fiction-sort-of-piece. I don't know what else to say about it. If you have anything to write in response that would be awesome, using the characters, setting or ideas. If you send me something I really like, I'll post it as a blog piece and maybe start something based off your response (that should be fun ^^). My e-mail, if it is not someonwhere on the page (I am too lazy to check) is TheGreenRanda@gmail.com. But anyway you can just post stuff in the comments section. That's cool too :D

Laenore didn’t know whether she was enjoying the scenery or regretting that she hadn’t come here alone. A part of her wanted Cardiff to disappear. Guilt oozed out from the back of her mind, pricking the careful illusions she had erected earlier that day. Now, she couldn’t take pleasure in anything. Not even the fact that it was cold.

“Are you enjoying that, or was I simply pestering you when I offered?” Laenore
wished she could just say what she wanted.

Cardiff turned toward her, the cake still untouched in his lap. His hair flurried in the salty wind, clinging to the sides of his face. Gray-green eyes gave a puzzled expression, and in the half light of the sun dipping into the sea, Cardiff was golden and shadowed. Laenore made a weak smile, despite what she was feeling.

“The ocean…” Cardiff turned away, setting the cake on the bench beside him.

Laenore strolled over to the railing and sat on the bars. She made sure not to block Cardiff’s view, and tried hard to pretend that she was alone, that she could feel free and content. She wanted herself to sever and examine. But this was too frightening. So, she had Cardiff.

Who, for the moment, she wished to forget.

Someone I don’t have to smother.

The ocean crashed against the shore, and yet, out at sea boats fearlessly sailed this treacherous, great stretch of water. There were even people brave enough to swim in it. Because through the fury there was harbored a bottomless beauty, an irresistible fascination. Laenore timidly looked back at Cardiff, unexpectedly desiring his presence, however vague.

I’m tired of games. You and I play these terrible games.

“Cardiff?” Laenore had been so distracted, perhaps so momentarily annoyed, that her sudden concern seemed misplaced. The other had assumed his role of silence. He was too considerate to do otherwise.

What… an asshole.

Laenore sat next to him, pushing aside the lavish, after-thought of a cake. She took pleasure in the closeness, in feeling Cardiff’s warm thigh against hers. Her fingers found Cardiff’s hand, coiled his arm around hers and she leaned against him. She rested her head on his shoulder, and was relieved when Cardiff leaned in also, relaxing against her.

But, how you make me feel so safe. So much like a child.

“Why can’t I make you happy?” Laenore said in a whisper. Her lips brushed against the skin of Cardiff’s neck, and the other made a soft sound. Cardiff furrowed his brow, and instead of answering, stroked the backside of Laenore’s hand with his fingers.
“Because I can’t make you mine,” Cardiff buried his face in Laenore’s hair, “I am trying so hard to love things, people, and I don’t know what I want anymore.”
Laenore closed her eyes, turning so that their noses lightly touched,
“We want less of things and people, Cardiff, and lie when we say we want more.”

Cardiff had wondered incessantly what Laenore might taste like. He could only imagine salt and the formless taste of tea. Their mouths would melt together, and she would taste like the ocean. Skin would be soft and feverish. His old memories faded into current musings, and he could taste and feel it all as if it were new. He lay on his side on the bed at Laenore’s apartment, listening to the other clean-up in the bathroom. He hadn’t felt so distracted by the thought of flesh since... but she was gone.




Laenore stood indistinct in the doorway of the bathroom. She had been there a while, wondering what the other were wondering, wildly disturbed for lack of empathy. Cardiff lazily acknowledged her, and extended his arm, indicating he wanted her near. Laenore walked over anyhow, lying across the bed and bending her knees toward her chest.
“There is nothing to look forward to tomorrow.” Laenore spoke in a low voice.
“We can change that.”
“And what if I don’t want to?”
When Cardiff made no reply to her teasing, Laenore lengthened her arm, pausing to caress Cardiff’s face with the back of her hand.
Cardiff smiled faintly.
“You still smell like the beach.”
“Do I?”
Cardiff nodded.

I can’t feel anything unless I feel you. Why does this frighten me?

Cardiff had all ready taken her mouth in his, and they drew closer, felt their warmth press together and fill the room. There was an unexpected urgency in Laenore’s kisses. Cardiff exercised a more restrained approach, circling the other’s mouth in a leisurely manner. Laenore, in response, slowed her pace and relaxed. Cardiff knew the kiss had been coming, but beneath his calm he felt deeply conflicted. Never imagining that he could be this intimate again, especially with someone he regarded as highly as Laenore, a twinge of shame momentarily disrupted his actions.
“Cardiff?” Laenore breathed into his ear when he drew his mouth away.
But his body betrayed this flighty thought, and he responded with a kiss that matched Laenore’s initial insatiety.
He pressed his knee down into Laenore’s abdomen, his hands stroking the balmy skin under her blouse. Laenore made a low, surprised sound, and the other stopped to look into her eyes, looking slightly apologetic. Laenore breathed in, pressing her hands to the sides of his face to return the kiss, roughly pulling him against her.

I feel full… I feel empty… what do I feel?

Laenore felt an eerie, surreal calm as Cardiff watched her remove the rest of her clothes. The room was slowly dissolving in a sedating darkness. She stared helplessly into Cardiff’s blank eyes as she helped tear away his clothes, too drowned in want to figure out what seemed wrong, in his expression or in their actions, in both. Laenore, during the numbing lust, could feel herself and this ghost more than man fade into the nothing that had so long ago brought them together.