Flash Fiction 2 by Judy Lunsford

Author:Judy Lunsford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: flash fiction, short fiction, magical fantasy
Publisher: Judy Lunsford
Published: 2021-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

True Stories

I found an old wooden chest in the attic. It was under piles of papers and old ski jackets and other random wardrobe pieces. Sun streamed through a small circular window and shone down on it like it was a signal from heaven. Swirls of dust danced above my possible treasure trove like dervishes as I pulled all of the items that hid the chest onto the floor.

I sneezed as the dust and the smell of mildewing clothes filled the air and crawled up my nose. I rubbed the dust from my burning eyes and waited a moment for the air to clear enough to dare to bend over and breathe it at close range.

I was excited because I knew this was where something good would be hidden.

My great uncle died a few weeks ago. And my siblings and I had been cleaning out his house ever since. He was what some people might call a hoarder.

He was what I called “a collector of useful items”.

My older brother and younger sister gave up helping me a few days ago. They wanted to just call for a dumpster and get rid of everything at this point. But I refused. So they left me to it, abandoning me to finish cleaning out the old man’s house by myself.

My uncle was rather eccentric by some people’s standards, but I loved the old guy. He was full of unbelievable stories and grand adventures that really pushed the boundaries of having any faith in his sanity. But that was why he and I got along so well. I loved his stories.

I could listen to him talk for hours. When my siblings and cousins all got tired of him and went out to play, that was when he leaned in and spun the most exciting yarns. He saved the grandest adventures just for me.

When I opened the chest, it cracked loudly on its hinges and stirred up even more dust. The smell of mothballs and cedar rose up from it like a mushroom cloud and hit me in the face like a boxing glove, landing a sure shot to me, right in the nose. But there it was, laying there on top, in perfect condition, as if it hadn’t been hidden up in an old attic for who knows how long.

It was a dark purple cloak made of velvet. The stitching was done with thousands upon thousands of perfect tiny hand-sewn stitches. It must have taken the maker forever to sew it.

I pulled it out of the chest and looked at it in the small streak of sunlight that shone down from the window above me.

When I held the cloak in the sunlight, it turned midnight black and looked like I could see the Milky Way dancing in the folds of the fabric.

It was large enough to cover someone my uncle’s size. He was a tall 6’4’ beast of a man in his younger days. So the cloak was plenty large enough for me to wear.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.