Flash Fiction

Jennie has a link on her blog to BornFool, who is holding a Flash Fiction contest (she mentioned it on Jessie's blog in a comment) and I entered. I wrote the piece in about 45 minutes and sent it in immediately on Sunday (or Saturday?) night. I figured if I thought about it too long, I wouldn't send it, so I'm not completely happy with what I submitted (I keep thinking of better ways to say stuff) but I did it. The theme or keyword was wish or whishes. Here's what I submitted.

The Wish

The candles glowed brightly, teasing her with fluttering flames, daring her to wish her wish. They knew, somehow, her deepest desire, her hidden fear. It was silly, she knew. Wishes didn’t come true. But they seemed to hiss at her, make your wish, make your wish, as if they knew they could grant it.

She closed her eyes, trembling, not daring to think it. Muted voices urged her on, make your wish, blow out the candles. Her breathing quickened. If she wished it, she couldn’t take it back No, she couldn’t, wouldn’t, make the wish. Opening her eyes, she stared resolutely at the candles. They hissed and sputtered, goading her. Make your wish, make your wish. No. It was wrong, hurtful to wish it. Make your wish, make your wish, they demanded, almost angry now. Defiantly, she let the wish flood her mind as she glared at the candles. Breathing in their heat, she closed her eyes and blew.

Acrid smoke filled her nostrils; the wish was made. She kept her eyes closed, terrified. She couldn’t take it back. Her heart thundered in her chest. And then, she heard it. Blow it out, blow it out! She opened her eyes and saw it. A single winking flame, taunting her now. It wouldn’t come true. She’d wished it and it wouldn’t come true. Relief flooded through her, followed by horror. She’d wished it. It was wrong, but she’d wished it anyway. As she stared sightlessly, the last candle flickered and died.