fantasy · flash friday · Short Story · Writing

Friday Flash: Dear God

This is a journal type entry for a character from a story I want to write someday (someday being when I’m done with the current WiP). I think this is back story. I’ve written other flashes for this character, here and here, at different ages.

Dear God

What is love?

Her ashes feed the sands and the heavens storm as if too they mourn her loss. But how can they?

How can they when You turned her life into such misery she took the powder to escape?

The priests tell me she is surely happy now, but what do they know? Nothing. Less than nothing. They fed her addiction to powder, used her for their own perverted pleasures. Just like Father.

Priests should know everything there is to know about how to love. But they don’t. They can’t. Or if they do, they know only venal love, carnal love and I cannot believe that is the true face of love. Your true face. But if they are false, why don’t You do anything?

And Father? He stood tonight in his heavy mourning black silks and spoke of his loss, of how the country lost its most loving voice. But all he regrets losing is the use of her during visits. He regrets the loss of so useful a daughter. If that is love, hate would be so much easier to bear.

I wish them all dead. Dead. I dream about it.

I would poison the priests. A long, slow poison. It will turn their limbs to stone and force them to howl in pain. They will die in pain and blood and vomit. They’ll lose the use of their limbs, the use of their mouth. I’ll leave them only with their eyes and ears. All the better to make them suffer when I drown their putrid, pulsing bodies. They’ll know why they die. Oh, yes, they will know.

Did they hear her screams when they used her, I wonder? But how could they be deaf to her pain? I don’t know. Monsters. They deserve a grave in the deep depths of the ocean. They will never see sunlight again.

I watched enough times to know the knife’s edge of helplessness. Her screams still haunt my dreams.

I want to crush Father’s skull, cut off his groin, bury him in the sands. No pyre, no ashes, no ceremony, just a shallow grave in the deep desert. The animals will tear apart his body better than I ever could.

And . . . and still I hold her treasure in my arms. He weighs less than a fistful of sand, yet his eyes hold such mysteries. I don’t know if this is love, what I feel when he grasps my ears, my nose. If it is, why do these tears fall? Perhaps all I feel is grief for my sister.

He looks like her, in the shape of his mouth, his eyes. Or perhaps those are Father’s eyes, Father’s mouth.

He’ll never know. I don’t know.

I do know I’ll never speak to anyone of his sire. I cannot. Such a burden might crush the poor babe.

Love seems an idea as hard to keep as water. Impossible to grasp and if you do manage, you find only brackish water. This is a corrupt world and no one is more corrupt than Your people.

I don’t know if I can love him. Help me love him. Please.

Vari

Plus, for your entertainment (in case the story bores you silly) here is my current favorite song: How To Love by Lil’ Wayne

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43 thoughts on “Friday Flash: Dear God

  1. Wow that was a powerful piece of writing Sonia. Just the right pace and just the right mixture of hate, compassion tempered with a smattering of love.

    Very well done! I could see a much longer story evolve from this – even a novel or novella.

  2. This is kind of uncanny, Sonia. I wrote a story a year ago, and kept postponing it. I just put it into my system for #fridayflash last week. And in a very straightforward way… it’s sort of God’s answer to your story here. This feels really weird, especially reading this as one of my first of the weekend.

    So beyond the feeling of connection, I enjoyed this. It opens on common enough ground, plenty of people have felt that, then moves into some riskier territory. I really like the ending, with her still desiring to love.

  3. This is really excellent, everything comes together so well, the writing, the emotion, the conflict, really top drawer. Loved the line “fer her addiction to powder”.

    Also a bit of a coincidence but there are similar themes in part of David Mitchell’s “The 1000 Autumns Of Jacob de Zoet” which I’m currently reading, but very different too.

    Top work!

    Marc Nash

  4. what an incredible piece – you can really feel his conflict, love and hate warring in him. Well done!

  5. I like the strength of the anger you’ve captured here. Underneath all of that is enough of a sense of the world that it leads you into the deeper depths of the characters emotions believing everything that has happened in the background.

  6. I liked her desire for vindication, even to the point of imagining how it could be done, yet tempered with her desire to still know love of the sort she knows is true. very powerful.

  7. I like where you take this. Hate, regret, reuplusion, sacrifice, and end it with the possibility of love. Yes, definately work on this when you’re done on your current WIP.

  8. I’m definitely intrigued to find out more about this world. Initially I was thinking priests handling a suicide was wrong but quickly realised this was a very different type of priest.

  9. Hi Sonia,

    I’m glad that I found you and the home of your writing. Took me a day or so, but I’m on a different schedule than most of the world. Nice story. Is it part of a larger work? Maybe a WIP?

    Looking forward to reading more.

    Aloha,

    Doug

  10. Wow. That was amazing. Raw, emotional, powerful, and truly gut-wrenching. Best flash I’ve read in quite a while! Kudos! 🙂

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