Co-written

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


Behind her, destruction. Before her, new worlds to conquer.

“Oi. Next you’ll throw in dragons, you D&D addict. She’s wearing skinny jeans in the picture, for chrissakes. Not exactly Middle Earth.”

“What do you think the writing prompt calls for, oh Wise One?”

“Listen.”

Sarah’s spirit inhabited the rocky peaks the way certain alpine flowers do, roots riven into sandy spaces between stones or locked deep in the fissures, so that even after she’d grown and gone, she’d never really left them.

“Eye roll.”

“You don’t say ‘eye roll’ when you’re literally doing it, weirdo. Note my unusual metaphors?”

“Utterly searing. A literary masterpiece.”

“Shut up. I dare you to do better.”

“Genre’s the way to go. Here.”

Sarah sipped the pine-spiked air, taking in the carpet of fiery autumn trees spread like a welcome mat in the sunset-gilded valley below her.

All this breathing space, away from Manhattan. Away from Joe.

She began her descent, tired but excited. Driving in the dark wasn’t ideal, but only an hour more to the fixer-upper inn she’d purchased online, sight unseen. Her heart leapt at the thought of it, even if she’d have to face the man she’d bought it from, also sight unseen, who’d been a terse, uncooperative jerk.

“Jaysus. Romance? Such trite tropes.”

“People eat that shit up. Judges will too.”

“Fine. Genre it is.”

Reaching the twilit, abandoned carpark, Sarah patted her jacket pocket, then riffled through her backpack. Her stomach dropped. Shit, where were her keys? She looked at her phone – down to ten percent and no service.

From the slope above her, something howled, wolf-like, but almost…human. God. What had the old man at the gas station said about a creature in these mountains?

“A werewolf…after you sneered at dragons and romance. We’re never gonna finish this.”

“Probably not.”


Submitted: June 11, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Molly Kelash. All rights reserved.

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