Here’s my contribution to this Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer’s.
It was like clockwork. Every morning, after it would rain, he would appear. Only after it rained.
The first few times startled me. A small child cloaked in black, a black as deep as shadow, save for the red backpack and blue shoes. The first time he appeared, I thought he was another child splashing in the puddles behind the school. I had laughed, turned my head for a moment, only to find him gone when I looked back. The second time, I watched as he stepped out of nowhere, splashed in the puddles, and vanished. Two jumps.
I’ve tried to call to him, but he never looked my way or changed his course. Appear, two splashes, vanish.
I’ve been teaching here for 6 months. I’ve asked around about him, but no one else had seen him. At least, no one is saying anything. I get a lot of looks, whispers behind my back. What worries me are the ones who don’t whisper, but stare at me with grim faces.
What are they hiding?
OK – this was far more morbid than I had wanted. I love it when the stories take over and tell themselves, but sometimes they go on paths I would not have chosen. Still, I think this is more intrigue than disturbing. Came in at 174 – so being below 170 didn’t last long, did it?
What do you think? I’d love to hear your thoughts on the story.
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