Day 5: Not the Wind

This short fiction was created based on a writing prompt from Bliss Morgan during her Nightmare Fuel experiment on Google Plus.

Image courtesy of David Lee

I am not the wind.  My name is was Mandy.

They told tall, stern, no smile man the house was not safe.  No smile man said “we’ll take it” and moved in with tall, smooth skin woman, small angry girl and fluffy bark puppy.  I like small angry girl.  She makes me think of me who is was Mandy.

I watched when smooth skin woman took angry girl for a walk.  I blew the leaves in their faces and watched them cower and shrink behind thin fingers.  “It’s just the wind,” said smooth skin woman.

I am not the wind.  My name is was Mandy.

While no smile man made dinner, I pried the thin sharp boards off the roof with my thin sharp fingers.  I tossed them down and screamed so they would hear me.  “It’s just the wind,” said no smile man.

I am not the wind.  My name is was Mandy.

I watched angry girl kicking rocks and throwing sticks.  I watched her from behind the tree because she reminds me of me who is was Mandy.  I blow gently but don’t get too close.  She mutters to herself, “I know that’s not the wind.”

She knows I’m not the wind.  My name is was Mandy.

I watched fluffy bark puppy wander into the road.  I saw the car hit and leave without even stopping to check on fluffy bark puppy.  I crept over to watch as his puff barks slowed to stillness.

Angry girl watches and sees fluffy bark puppy.  She sees something that she doesn’t understand and can’t explain.  She breathes to herself, “Mandy?”

Becket Moorby, October 2011

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s