micro fiction

The Note, Part 7

It knows what I’m thinking.

I called my friend Josh and asked him to meet for coffee. I was going to tell him about the notes. Sure, I had no proof. I didn’t get to keep any of them. It’s enough to make me think I’m crazy, but Josh and I go way back. I really think he’d believe what I’m seeing.

But then I got another note, just before I was about to walk out the door.

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What’s really fucked up about this? I still have the note. It didn’t disappear, even when I let go of it in my pocket.

Will this thing hurt me if I tell Josh? I have PROOF now.

What do I do?

To start at the beginning, go here.
For Part 6, go here.

The Note, Part 6

I thought for sure something weird would happen yesterday. It was Halloween for fuck sakes. I walked around all day, looking over my shoulder, expecting to see a note pop up.

Nothing. No-friggin-thing. Even today. Nothing.

So I sat down with a beer to watch tv tonight, to catch a rerun of CSI. I just took a sip and turned to look where I was putting the bottle and when I looked back, there’s the note, stuck to the tv screen.

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I got up to grab the note but then this (holy shit) feeling. It was like something was pushing on the side of my face.

I went in the other direction, towards the window. I… I looked down from my apartment window just in time to see a cab t-bone a Mercedes, right in the middle of the fucking road.  

I’ve got to talk to somebody about this shit. I just have to think of who wouldn’t think I’m on drugs.

As usual, the note is gone.

 

 
To go to The Note, Part One, click here.

The Note, Part 5

It’s the day before Halloween and I’m standing outside the door of my local corner store, shaking like a leaf. I can’t believe it.

In my pocket is a winning lottery ticket. The prize is too big for the store to pay me. They only pay up to $1,000, so I have to mail the ticket off to the lottery head office.

This note was on my living room couch when I got home from dinner out with friends last night, at 7:10:

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My lottery ticket is for exactly $1,026.00.

Is this thing that’s leaving me notes actually a lucky angel or some fucking thing? I’m feeling pretty lucky today.

 

 
For Part One of The Note, click here.

The Note, Part 4

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The note’s been following me around since yesterday morning. When I woke up it was sitting on top of my coffee maker. When I got to work it was stuck to my computer screen. It was even sitting on the only unoccupied seat on the bus.

The date is old – June 29, 2013. 9:35am.

What does it mean?

It’s stuck to my tv screen now. It won’t come off.

The Note, Part 3

I enjoy my nightly bath, okay? Sue me. I was determined on two accounts tonight though. First, I wouldn’t fall asleep in the tub, and second, if the phone rang I was going to answer it. I even had one of my remote phones in the bathroom right beside me. No problem, right?

Yyyeah.

I was in the tub for about two minutes when it started to ring. I dried my hand on the towel beside the bath and grabbed the phone. The “on” button wouldn’t work. So I jumped out of the tub, (there was no way I wasn’t answering the damned call. I wanted to know who was doing this to me) and ran to the bedroom to get the hardwired line.

I must have said, “hello” a dozen times. No one was at the other end. Just dead air. So I went back to my bath. This was stuck to the mirror:

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Nothing on it this time. Just the date and time. One minute past the current time that was.

“Why the fuck are you doing this to me!”

If the neighbours heard me they must think I’m nutsoid. They know I’m always alone here.

I thought, Fuck it. I left the note there and sat back in the bath. When I looked up, the note was gone.
Part one of The Note is here: https://lindaghillfiction.wordpress.com/2013/12/08/the-note/

The Note, Part 2

I thought it would be safe to take a bath.  I got home at 5:56 just like usual, made dinner, enjoyed it in front of the tv with a glass of wine, and went for a soak.

I don’t usually fall asleep in the tub. Tonight was strange. It was the phone that woke me up.

Of course I remembered the note from yesterday. Of course I was tempted to rush out naked to answer it. But something told me I shouldn’t, even though my bath water had gone cold anyway.

I found it when I went back to my bedroom.

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“Who the hell are you?” I asked the empty room.

The time on my alarm clock was 10:03. The note was written at 10 on the dot. I put the note down and went back to the bathroom to get my clothes. When I came back to the bedroom, the note was gone.

Start from the beginning: The Note

The Note

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The note was weird, but I thought, okay, so I just wouldn’t take a bath last night. And yet it kept me awake all night. The date matched the day I found it, so I assumed the time was correct as well. But if someone had written it at 9:43 am, and I left home at 8:17am to go to work, how had the note ended up on my fridge before I got home at 5:56pm? I live alone.

When I got up this morning I looked for the note, where I had left it on the kitchen table. The note was gone. Nowhere to be found.

I assume it will be safe to take a bath tonight.

Late Autumn

How crisp is this day? When the leaves rustle like castanets in the hands of a child, chilled to the bone from playing outside too long; and the green grass is tipped with glittering white specks of frozen dew.

Ah, the joy of coming winter. The sun sets before our sup and refuses to rise in the morning, appearing in the east slowly, like a stubborn teenager.

Christmas is but a bargain away, All Hallows Eve a pile of wrappers hidden under the sofa cushion.

And the days are crisp, the nights desirous of a fireplace.

Ice Queen

The Ice Queen sat upon her throne and twiddled her thumbs. Her silver rings clicked together – the spectators could hear them in the back row, so quiet was it.

“You call that a performance?” she asked the man in the hat, who had just kissed a woman in a trenchcoat?

“I…I’m…” he stuttered.

“SILENCE!” She breathed through her nose. Someone in the back row coughed and with a flick of her wrist, off came the spectator’s head.

“Come here.” She curled a finger at the actor.

He staggered forward, the fear in his eyes all but thrummed.

“Kiss me,” the Ice Queen whispered. She puckered her lips.

The actor leaned forward… and vomited his dinner into the Ice Queen’s lap.

The Ice Queen screamed and the guards murdered the audience. Every last one of them. Only the Ice Queen, the actors and the guards were left standing.

She stood from her throne. She decreed that there should be a new audience.

The performance would be repeated the next night, as it had been every night for a year.

Tomorrow, perhaps the actor would get it right.

Everything Descends

On the final evening of their honeymoon, they sat side by side on the beach and watched as the darkening ocean consumed the sun.

“Everything has a purpose,” she said, resting her head against her new husband’s shoulder.

“Yes,” he whispered. He placed his hand on the tight mound below her breasts.

His son.