It's been raining for days, but the old flood path behind the park has reopened. There's a man standing beside a folded sawhorse and a Path Closed sign leaning against a young sycamore. He smiles at my hesitation. "A chance for a cent. Normally, I have a bag of seeds." He holds out his hand and the shadows of the branches and one circling bird fall across his palm. He could be offering entrance, but I find myself checking pockets for change.
I spent the five I'd been saving for months on coffee, although I'd tossed the last bitter swirl of burnt crumbs and ice earlier. There is something in my pocket, though.
He's still waiting, glancing up as if to check the originals of the shadows he seems to be offering. "The seeds don't drop for me anymore. And there's the rule against gathering them here, and so many are weeds. Shadows are easier." A smile, as if we're talking about the park, the newly opened path.
And then I find what's in my pocket, an old metal disk I'd picked up, thinking of my dad. "Never leave anything on the road that might be useful." I can't think of why I'd need this and make a show of offering it to the stranger.
Before I can joke, he clasps my palm. His skin is cool and the shadows twine around our hands. "There's hope exchanged for a shadow." He steps into the park and his expression is blurred in a blaze of afternoon.
It's too bright and hot that way. Too many things you can see--empty pockets. Good advice, even. Prickles of light catch everything. I tuck my shadow in my pocket. Breezes shove the murk of a dark gang of clouds over this path. A feathered head with a sharp eye and beak pops out of my pocket. There's wisdom in bad decisions, too.
Sharing this post with Poets United this week (sort of related to The Sunday Muse post, but not really). Okay, so this is more phobia and fears than otherwise. I think I've mentioned before that I'm not the kind of person who usually leaves the path...but I am the kind of person who can be persuaded to do so. And being called out for trespassing (not to mention worse outcomes) just worries me. At least in real life. There are no rules in fiction!!! :)
Enjoyed this prompt--and it was the first prose one I managed to do! *streamers explode* *Muppets cheer*
I don't usually write about the things I fear--there's leftover fairy-tale shibboleth warning me that that would only draw their attention--but this week I've been rather over-reminded of all the things that creep through my head and snicker wickedly just as I start to relax...so I may be taking up torch and sword in upcoming poems.
Hope everyone has a good week!!
-- Chrissa
I love how much your storytelling style reminds me of Seanan McGuire's--of her Wayward Children Series, in particular--while remaining so clearly yours. The details of the shadows, the way neither we nor the narrator know exactly what the man is going on about... But, oh! we can feel the creepy, the warning, the popping of that shadow, the lingering thought... which suggests, that maybe, just maybe there was a use for that metal disc.
ReplyDeleteSo glad you got to enjoy a bit of prose writing and sharing. I totally delighted in it. I, too, understand the hesitation when it comes to writing about our we truly fear. But, in a way, I feel it helps. I choose to imagine that we might call it into the storyand in there, our muse can do whatever she wants with the scaries.
Have a fantastic week.
I love "Muppets cheer!" I really enjoyed this tale, and the originality of the setting, and what transpires. Very inriguing. The bird head popping out of the pocket was very cool and unexpected.
ReplyDeleteCan you ever say if it's a bad decision or not... afterwards maybe, but the outcome of staying or straying from the path i never clear.
ReplyDeleteI loved your story – and the notes almost as much. I particularly love 'There's wisdom in bad decisions, too.'
ReplyDeleteSometimes we have to wait awhile to really know if a decision was good or bad. Either way, there's wisdom to be gained if we are open to it. I know I've learned things through fear.
ReplyDeleteWisdom's place in bad decision was a bit of a surprise but may turn true.
ReplyDeleteI absolutely loved this one, Chrissa!❤️ Yes there is undoubtedly wisdom in bad decisions. Kudos!
ReplyDeleteyou have a very unique voice in telling this story.
ReplyDeletei like what you said about 'There's wisdom in bad decisions'
Dsnake is so right....this is what I love about your poetry and prose Chrissa: you have such a unique voice. That is what makes your writing so amazing. I love the line, "prickles of light catch everything,I tuck my shadow in my pocket"....and "there's wisdom in bad decisions too"....how true that can be. I truly love this Chrissa!
ReplyDeleteYes, you do have such a unique voice. I am more and more attracted to writing dark things. It is a way of clearing myself of anger and facing my fears with computer keys.
ReplyDeleteI like the eeriness of this story. It creates a chilling fear as the story unfolds. I also like your style of writing it. You painted pictures in my mind.
ReplyDelete