Tag Archives: fairy tales

Third Thursday Flash Edition Four: “Bathe Me Away”

Welcome back! It’s time for the fourth edition of Third Thursday Flash!

Every three weeks, I craft a 500 to 1,000 word flash piece with a theme suggested by my fantastic blog readers. A theme submission call will come around again in about two weeks if you’d like to participate.

Today’s theme is dedicated to and inspired by…my mom! 🙂 She sent along the following: I was looking forward to a bath in my spa tub, long day, boring conversation. As I leaned over to turn on the fountainhead, I noticed there was a vine growing out of the drain… A bit of a writer herself and an illustrator and designer, my mom definitely struck an idea with this one. So, without further ado, thanks to my mom for inspiring…
 

Bathe Me Away

Arianna fell back in the tub, the water splashing around her body as she dipped herself low.

“Dear gawwwdddd….” She closed her eyes and pressed the wet cloth over them, the scent of cinnamon candle filling her nose in the tiny apartment bathroom. She’d been looking forward to a bath in the spa tub after a long day at work with her troll of a boss, and as if that hadn’t been enough, her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend called her the moment she got in the car—commencing forty-seven minutes of boring conversation.

I really have to dump that guy. Stat.

“Tomorrow,” she muttered aloud. She frowned and sank deeper under the foaming bubbles. It had been a while since she’d cracked open the lid to the bottle, but she remembered loving the scent when she was a kid. Her mom ran her a bath almost every night of her elementary school years, the gesture accompanied by a dramatic reenactment of the 80s soap commercial.

“Take me away!” Arianna said, giggling. The sound echoed off the tiles. “Seriously, anytime. It’s all a little intense right now.”

Pressing her palm against the washcloth, Arianna shoved her foot on the fountainhead. Her five foot nine inch frame surpassed the length of the tub, so as usual she slipped her calves out of the water to make the most of it.

Maybe a new apartment, too?

Something scratched her calf and Arianna jerked her leg back. She tugged the washcloth off her eyes and examined her skin—no mark. A quick glance across the edge of the tub revealed her childhood paranoia of floating spiders was still not anything she should take seriously.

“Phew,” she breathed. But as soon as she did, something green snaked its way beneath the surface. Arianna swept the bubbles aside. “What the—”

A small vine traced a path from the drain and up the edge of the tub, coiling itself around the fountainhead. Flowers broke from its stem as it spread across the metal and along the rim, and as the vine grew out and down the support legs of the tub, the drain snapped with a loud pop. The plant sucked the water straight out from under Arianna, leaving her shivering.

“You’ll like it here, Arianna.”

The voice bounced off the tiles of the bathroom, belonging to no one she could see and yet continuing in the most melodic of tunes. “Away from it all,” more voices said. Arianna yelped, the vines growing behind her back. She tried to lift herself but they slipped around her ankles, circling them like soft hands. They reached her hips and covered her body, soothing her skin as warmly as the bath water had done moments before, and enough to make her want to melt deeper into it.

“What is going on?” she whispered. She fought for a moment, but the texture felt so warm, so gentle…

The vines grew higher. They traveled up the tile of the bathroom walls and back down the corners of the room. They spread over each other, the flowers covering stems, the stems covering flowers, and the voices chiming in together as Arianna sank into the tub.

“Away, away, away…”

The vines laced themselves into her hair, then caressed her shoulders. They embraced her in foliage as she slipped lower, nothing but green comforting her skin, filling the tub, and overtaking the room before Arianna gasped aloud.

“But I—”

The vines circled her neck and crossed her face, smothering her in the green burst of plant life before it took her away.

***

Thanks for reading the fourth edition of Third Thursday Flash. We’ll return to The Art of Narrative series on Monday, and in the meantime, have a great weekend! 🙂

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Third Thursday Flash Edition Three: “Pages”

Welcome back! It’s time for the third edition of Third Thursday Flash!

Every three weeks, I craft a 500 to 1,000 word flash piece with a theme suggested by my fantastic blog readers. A theme submission call will come around again in about two weeks if you’d like to participate.

Today’s theme is brought to you by Nathan Payne over at The Writers Codex. Nathan suggested the phrase The pages fell open to start the piece, as well as the closing of a book at the end. Without further ado, thanks to Nathan for inspiring…

Pages

The pages fell open and Becca clapped her hand over her mouth. Beatrice told her it would do this, but she hadn’t imagined it would have so much power, as if the book had a will of its own.

“Woah,” she whispered.

A steady breeze filled the room and Becca swept her gaze over the closed window.

Did that come from the book?

She laid her hand on the pages. The crisp linen bond felt hot against her palm, warmer than any book should ever be—and right as she touched it, a beam of light shot across her ceiling. Becca tilted her head up, watching the light change from red, to teal, to orange, then into the brightest of yellows. It flickered across the ceiling like a rainbow mobile for a child.

Except this is for me!

Immediately the voices started, small chants of excitement as the creatures began to unstick themselves from the pages. Becca yanked back her hand, uncovering the squirming Princess character. She peeled herself off, her flat, colored body rolling up like an untacked sticker—first her head of long hair, her pink ‘o’ shaped mouth, and her shoulders, arms, and waist.

“Oh my,” Becca said.

“What are you doing up there, Becca?” her father called.

She straightened in her chair, her back in the rigid pose they’d practiced with her through her home-schooling years. It was the same posture they emphasized with Beatrice and her at the New School for Girls.

Thank goodness I met Beatrice!

“Nothing, dad!” She traced her finger over the meadow in the picture while the Princess released a soft huff and tugged her legs and skirt from the field. Becca couldn’t believe her eyes. “I’ll be down soon!”

“Ten minutes.”

“Okay…” She faced the pages, biting her tongue to suppress her squeal. The Princess ran her hands over her skirt and gave a wiggle, her paper-doll body tapering out into the miniature form of a real being.

“Who are you?” she said. Becca strained hard to hear her.

“I’m—”

Before she could answer, the pages flipped to another story. Several fairies and dwarves pushed and pulled against the crisscrossed fibers of the pages. They popped to the surface with grunts and whistles.

“Hey little lady! Thanks for the free pass!”

Only one scowled at her, shaking his cardboard body like a dog out of water until his flat self burst into a berry-shaped man of no more than an inch high.

“Yeah, thanks,” he muttered. He grabbed the hand of the embedded Queen by sinking his fingers into the paper—Becca’s jaw dropped open at that—and tugged her right off the page. When the Queen rounded out to a small human, she ran over to the Princess. They giggled before embracing one other.

“We’re free again!” they said.

“Well, for now!” Becca hoped they realized she had to go soon. The thumping in her chest echoed in her ears while the rest of the characters started coming to life. Princesses, princes, and creatures of all types unrolled from the pages and formed an army of characters on her bedspread. My own personal fairy tale! “Only until dinner time, guys…”

“That is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,” the tiny centaur said. He threw his hands on his furry hindquarters, then pawed at the ground.

The lights on the ceiling started to shimmer and dance, mimicking the movements of the figures. They ran across the pages, high-fiving one another and squealing so loud that Becca’s dad called up to the room.

“What is going on up there, Becca?”

“Nothing, dad!”

Her mom chimed in. “We expect you in your dinner chair in two minutes!”

“Okay!” Becca looked around the room. No box, no chest, no drawer could contain the abundance of characters removing themselves from the pages. “Um, I have to go. I’ll come back later. I didn’t realize how many of you—“

“Becca! Right now!”

“Sorry!” Becca said. She scooped all the figures up as best she could, then shoved them into the crease of the open book.

“Wait, what about us?”

“Hey, we’re people too, you know.”

“Little miss, this isn’t very nice—“

She slammed the book shut. The lights disappeared from the ceiling and the noise of the figures fell quietly from their confinement within the pages. Becca leaned her mouth close to the binding.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” she said. “Can’t wait to see you all again!”

“Becca! Dinnertime.”

“I’m coming!” She shoved the book under her bedspread, pressing her hands to her cheeks in an attempt to calm the excitement that brightened her face. She ran to the door and cast one last glance at the lump under the covers. “I promise, you guys!” she said.

Then she left for dinner.

***

Thanks for reading the third edition of Third Thursday Flash. Have a great weekend, everyone! 🙂


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