white fur mittens

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: The Imaginarium

a short short i wrote in a college class. it reflects my fear of being a new driver at the time and how i hated driving home in storms.

Submitted: April 12, 2018

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Submitted: April 12, 2018



The aroma of her perfume clung to the mittens. They were white as clouds, feathered with fur, and delicate as a kitten. The man gently held them in one hand, while with the other he cracked his whip to speed the horses up. His carriage creaked and groaned as the gypsy vanners drew it along the snow-blanketed road.

Just a short ways off stood a magnificent manor. It would be veiled by snowfall and stars while the yellow light of candlesticks would glow behind its frosted windowpanes. That’s where his lady lived. Her name was Felicity Tuft, soon to be Felicity Sheckles. And to go ice skating with her was his favorite part of the week.

This elegant memory cloaked his vision like thick cobwebs moments after beginning. In the daze, one of the carriage’s wheels smashed against a large rock, disrupting its balance. The harnesses snapped off when the gypsies reared up and shrieked, clearly distressed as the vehicle turned on its side and slid off the icy road. With no reins holding them back, the horses dashed off through the thickening blizzard leaving their coachman behind. This man remained under the carriage as snowflakes on the ground were stained red... The white fur mittens still clutched in his lifeless hand.

© Copyright 2019 MaryMay. All rights reserved.

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