Sand Garden

My try at flash fiction (under 500 words)

I could tell she felt sad. Her finger ran over the grain of sands that sat in front of her. She wrote the word ‘sin’ in cursive and then underlined it.

            “Love…” She spoke with a rough tone. It sounded like steel wool being rubbed against solid ground, “is a cheap substitute for the real thing. In the end you feel powerless and sin and power go hand in hand. I feel so f*****g powerless when I’m pure.”

            “And what….”

            “Mother f*****g love songs that I thought I could relate to. The ocean is hungry, that makes more sense to me than human emotions. The ocean is hungry and only when it has it’s feeling of sadness does anyone sleep at night.”

            “So where is he?” I looked down at my notes and was shocked to see they were black. She had been my client for months and I had taken a hoard of notes on her; where did they all go?

            “Him? Andrew?” She stood up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

            “Ya, him.” She felt so cold and controlling. Looking into her stone cold eyes made a chill ran down my spine.

            “He wasn’t real just like you. You are not real, you are nothing.”

            “Of course I am. Is there any else symptoms you feel the need to talk about?” I tried to remember what were original symptoms were; she was seeing me for hallucinations, or was it an eating disorder?

            Sitting in front of her was a sand garden. She wiped out the word sin and wrote in cursive ‘dream’.  “You are real because I made you real.”

            “No, I’m real.”

            “Then how did you get here? Why do you one second see your family and the next you’re here talking to me. You think the past happened, but that is all fiction, a story programmed into your mind.”

            “What the hell?!” Years of schooling in my field never made me ready for this, because she was right. They always told me I had control when a client was in my office. The young women in front of me kept writing cursive words into the yen garden in front of her. She wrote words like God, blood, pain, suffering, light and salvation, over and over.

            “Hell created you, and I’m an angel. You fear me, you know you’re not real and that scares you. The only reason I’m here is to die, and you’re coming with me so that you can no longer hurt the people of this world.”

            I couldn’t speak because I was being sucked in. Deeper and deeper I was falling down a hole I couldn’t control. I was losing everything I thought was real and finding the truth as a fell. Hell was angry with me for I had done nothing right, and had fallen into this angel’s traps all along.

 

Reviews

[MandaBear]

Is there going to be more???? If there is I cant wait to read it

[Calypso]

Thanks, and that's it. Just a random idea I had.

[trainwreck]

This is brilliant. There is a good reason that, whenever I see your work in my read requests, I read it immediately. I had no idea where you were going, but it was a lovely work. Great job!

[Calypso]

Thanks so much! I love when you read my stuff.

[SuicidePact.]

Wow I think if this were a book I would buy it. You are very talented. The way you let the words speak for themselves to create a living picture. AMAZING!

[Calypso]

Thanks!