Blues Buster: Through the Glass Darkly

© Lisa Shambrook

Erin let her long locks fall down her back as she released the clasp that held up her hair. She knew the ebony cascade always made him catch his breath, and she listened for his slight inhalation amid the silence of the room. The corner of her mouth lifted as his sigh escaped and she gently shook her heavy mane.

Her thoughts raced, tripping over each other as romance gave way to sensual, and her senses heightened.

She stood, bathed in silk, and swept her black hair to one side. Still with her back to him, she closed her eyes and let his gaze roam over her form. She imagined his touch, his kiss, his lips caressing her bare shoulder and she let the robe drop from her shoulder with anticipation as night’s chill tingled across her skin.

A rogue moonbeam cast its light across her vanity table and a small, dusty bottle glittered. Leaning forward she picked up the bottle and lifted the stopper. She cupped it within her hand and inhaled the dusky oriental scent. Memories flooded and images lit up her mind, and for a moment she was lost amongst the fragrance and sweet romance. Heady sensuality, deep kisses, lingering fingers and long lost memories slid through the moonbeam, and Erin could barely contain them all.

“Erin, sweetheart,” the young care worker’s voice interrupted her reverie. “Erin, why are you dancing in the dark?”

Then sunlight drowned Erin and her gasp filled the room.

“There, now we’ve got light, you don’t want to be wandering about in the gloom, now do you, sweetheart?”

Erin blinked, and the young woman in the crisp white uniform, took the dusty perfume bottle from her old, gnarled fingers. She replaced it on the dresser and gently guided the tiny, elderly woman towards her bed.

Erin shuffled softly, her feet encased in sheepskin slippers. She glanced back to the mirror on the dresser, and frowned at the old lady returning her gaze. She had no idea what the old lady was doing in her room, but she was tired, and the bed looked welcoming. Her care worker pulled back the covers and Erin slid between the sheets, her flannelette nightgown rising up about her legs as she settled into bed.

As the young women left with a clichéd au revoire and clicked off the light, Erin let her eyes get used to the sudden dark. For a moment fear shivered through her frail body and loss brought tears to her eyes, but as the moon smiled and gazed across the room, Erin relaxed.

Her hand brushed soft white hair from her face and the moonbeam danced across the bed. She brought her fingers to her lips and a wisp of scent, a dusky fragrance, ignited her mind. Shadows slid back through the walls, ghosts filled her mind and the cold night became warm as she moved a strand of ebony hair from her forehead and felt her silk nightdress cling to her skin. She smiled as his breath tickled her neck and bittersweet love returned…

(513 Words)

My story for Blues Buster over at The Tsuruoka Files…this song, Through the Glass Darkly by Annie Lennox brought with it a hint of sadness and loss, and with current familial circumstances, it inspired a poignant tale.

Five Sentence Fiction: Envy

© Lisa Shambrook

Kate’s eye twitched, and the corner of her pinched mouth began to rise, almost imperceptibly, but it did, curling into a sneer that even Kate wasn’t aware of. Slugs, not butterflies, churned in the pit of her stomach, writhing in the green acid of resentment as Kate sat across from her cheerful sister.

Emma chatted with purposefully casual words, and Kate gazed distractedly at the halo caused by the shaft of sunlight behind her sister’s bouncing ponytail.

Kate ignored the prickles that danced across her own skin and hurriedly retracted her hand as Emma tentatively reached across the table, squinting as both time and the sun moved slowly across the hall. Kate’s chest tightened as the warden called out and she caught Emma’s swallow and barely concealed smile, and her sister left with a spring in her step that her own stiff, burdened pace hadn’t seen in over two long years.

A visceral piece for Lillie McFerrin’s renowned Five Sentence Fiction…have a go yourself, with the prompt word Envy…

Five Sentence Fiction: Empty

Photo by Lisa Shambrook Instagram (please do not use without permission)

It was the imprint in the sofa, the flattened cushion and the worn patch in the carpet.
It was the ridge in the centre of the bed; she’d tried sleeping on his side, letting her body mould into the contours of the mattress, but she could never get comfortable, could never sleep that way.
It was the lack of matching knives, forks and spoons at the dining table, no need for the half-full jar of Marmite, and too much milk in the fridge.
It was the shaving gel and razor still sitting lonesome on the bathroom shelf, and the memory of aftershave.
It was those sad puppy eyes his beloved old Labrador gave her when they sat together in the quiet sitting room, with too much to think about, surrounded by ghosts and empty hearts.

Written for Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction.