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Happy Halloween everyone!!!

I’ve written a Halloween themed piece of flash fiction for Esther Newton’s flash fiction competition. Here is the link if you’d like to find out more. Esther Newton Blog: Last Call for Flash Fiction Entries. But today is the last day for entries so get on your witch’s broom and hurry up. The prompt is discovery, so doesn’t have to be Halloween related!

The Ghostly Jacket of Discovery

Last night the sliding wardrobe had been closed but this morning it lay open.  All of Ed’s shirts were freshly laundered and ironed. His ties neatly arranged in perfect rows, his shoes polished and shiny. Iris pulled his biker jacket off the hanger. It was his one aberration, the one piece of clothing that was different. He had loved that jacket, had said that it carried special memories of freedom, laughter, and happiness. He had refused to throw it out, long after the leather had cracked, and its colour had faded. Iris laid it on the bed, pulling at the tiny threads that held loose buttons.  For some odd reason, it soothed her to stretch the thread to its furthest point and to hear it snap. Soon the jacket button’s hung in shame, one more pull and it would be over. There’d be no snap back, no ping and return. She gently placed it back on the bed, caressing the threads as if asking for forgiveness.

Musing about her long happily married life she knew she had gone beyond mourning Ed’s death. She might as well have died with him. She hadn’t answered the phone, read her emails, or engaged in any way with anyone. This had gone on for months. She had survived on infrequent sips of water, tinned food, and crackers. 

Her eyes returned to the crumpled jacket. She hadn’t moved it, but now it lay with its two sleeves pointing in opposite directions. She touched the left sleeve; it ached with a strange heaviness.   The right side felt light and airy, tingling with the promise of fresh discovery. 

She picked up Ed’s jacket and hugged it, inhaling the faint but familiar scent of his aftershave. She smiled; Ed had always worn the same scent, oaky, masculine, and liberating. Walking out into the night air she drew in a deep breath, she shook, tears cascading like released diamonds onto the hard concrete slabs.  Each breath nearly killed her with its fierceness, but she courageously took another and another. Soon she was giddy with recklessness. A ghostly shudder gripped her by the shoulders and tingled down her arms before reaching her widowed heart. She reached up standing on tiptoes, longing for Ed’s kiss. She was rewarded by the gentlest of caresses, feather light but exquisite.  She melted in his ghostly arms and smiled a happy but fleeting smile.

Ed’s ghost saw her sudden sadness and sighed. He touched her cheek saying, ‘My love. Ditch the jacket. It’s time to buy a new one. You wear it this time. Discover all there is to know about the liberating thread of a life well lived.’

She looked at the jacket, and noticed that the loose threads had drawn together in a heart shaped goodbye.

 

© Marjorie Mallon 2016 – aka, Kyrosmagica. All Rights Reserved.

Hope you enjoyed my piece of flash fiction.

Bye for now,

 

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