Flash Fiction: Monster Meal
Jun. 4th, 2010 10:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wyld_dandelyonHaving finally finished the next Feather Dragon story (which insisted on being a full-fledged short story, not flash), my brain felt free to wander, and lo--before midnight--I have something ready for
Monster Meal
She shivers in the dark night, not because she’s cold; her fur is proof against even winter’s winds, and it is not winter. No, she shivers because she knows the moon will rise, full, and powerful, and there is nowhere she can go to hide from it.
She walks forward through the shoulder-high grasses, smelling the chicory, clover, and violets. A frog croaks, a poor, sickly sound; the stream nearby is choked with trash—rotting paper things and metal containers that the monsters put there.
In the distance there are roses, lilies, and squirrels. A dog barks at a cat. The monsters are quiet, for the moment.
A rabbit breaks cover right in front of her, bounding away, eyes wide with fear. She starts to chase it, hoping to fill her stomach before the moonlight hits her, so at least she won’t wake with that —taste— in her mouth. She bounds three times, and then feels the tingling start, as the first moonlight falls on her fur.
Her feet stop moving, and she falls in the grass, as the wholesome rabbit bounds away to safety. The change hurts, but pain is only pain. The worst is knowing she is becoming a monster, one of those who defile the world, salting it with poisons and trash.
She thrashes on the ground, hidden by the grasses, moaning weakly.
The moon rises, and the woman sits up, bare skin still tingling from the change. She is wearing a polyester dress and plastic high-heeled shoes. She reaches into her purse, pulls out a tiny bag of make-up and dresses her face. She takes out a breath mint, tossing the plastic wrapper on the ground. Then she walks to a road where she catches a bus.
“Good evening.” The bus driver smiles, obviously appreciating her curves.
“Hi!” She smiles back flirtatiously. “There is a Big Burger on this route, isn’t there?”
______________________
I'd love to hear from you!
Monster Meal
She shivers in the dark night, not because she’s cold; her fur is proof against even winter’s winds, and it is not winter. No, she shivers because she knows the moon will rise, full, and powerful, and there is nowhere she can go to hide from it.
She walks forward through the shoulder-high grasses, smelling the chicory, clover, and violets. A frog croaks, a poor, sickly sound; the stream nearby is choked with trash—rotting paper things and metal containers that the monsters put there.
In the distance there are roses, lilies, and squirrels. A dog barks at a cat. The monsters are quiet, for the moment.
A rabbit breaks cover right in front of her, bounding away, eyes wide with fear. She starts to chase it, hoping to fill her stomach before the moonlight hits her, so at least she won’t wake with that —taste— in her mouth. She bounds three times, and then feels the tingling start, as the first moonlight falls on her fur.
Her feet stop moving, and she falls in the grass, as the wholesome rabbit bounds away to safety. The change hurts, but pain is only pain. The worst is knowing she is becoming a monster, one of those who defile the world, salting it with poisons and trash.
She thrashes on the ground, hidden by the grasses, moaning weakly.
The moon rises, and the woman sits up, bare skin still tingling from the change. She is wearing a polyester dress and plastic high-heeled shoes. She reaches into her purse, pulls out a tiny bag of make-up and dresses her face. She takes out a breath mint, tossing the plastic wrapper on the ground. Then she walks to a road where she catches a bus.
“Good evening.” The bus driver smiles, obviously appreciating her curves.
“Hi!” She smiles back flirtatiously. “There is a Big Burger on this route, isn’t there?”
______________________
I'd love to hear from you!
