FLASH-FICTION
In cadenced rhythm storm-swells pounded the coast. Above, lightning etched the sky in vivid white-hot traceries. The atmosphere was super-charged, booming thunder roared like cannonade, and before long the rain had become torrential. No one in their right mind would ever venture out on a night like this. High atop the drops, set back a ways in the trees, a clapboard cottage creaked and groaned with each quicksilver gust. Safe inside a solitary man was sound-asleep; his fire had burned down to feathery yellow-orange wisps. Suddenly a fierce pounding rattled the door. Jolted awake, his bleary eyes focused on a muzzy face peering through the window.
“What do you want?” He blurted in affected tenor.
“Asylum!” A darkened voice growled.
At once ghastly images mushroomed. He felt vulnerable, desperate, doomed. The sudden intrusion had sliced into his tremulous ramparts like razors and now fear was devouring him in growling gulps. The knocking became frenzied.
“A moment, please,” the man cried-out, nervously fumbling for his slippers.
In that small window the waning fire was casting eerie shadows now on sinister sunken eyes. His cloak clung to him as stringy long hair danced in blustering wind. Again the hinges groaned in protest.
“What do you want?” The tenant exclaimed; despairing as a susurrus of clammy voices threatened to banish him to the far doldrums of Horse Latitudes.
“ASYLUM!” The voice demanded maniacally.
Utterly consumed the man cried out to the Highest. At once his thinking cleared, his limbs surged with strength, and then he addressed the intruder in a clear courageous tone: “There is no room here, fiend, and I am not alone. I am armed, so be gone, and take your serpents, and your fear, with you.”
Blaspheming, the scowling face melded into the darkness. Soon thereafter the madness of all the tenant had imagined lessened.
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Vividly written in language that I am incapable of. However, I found the ending, with the old warrior (suffering from post stress syndrome?) suddenly coming out, to be rather abrupt rather than something more, like getting his sword and actually opening the door to the wind.
Ron
enjoyed reading your informative narrative
I look forward to reading more of your work.
m