The Curse of Immortality

It is a Thursday and it is my set editing day to work on my completed novel. I intended to do another post about editing but I was inspired by yet another Inspiration Monday flash fiction prompt. So this post features that story instead (although it is just over 700 words not the usual 500).

As for editing the novel. Progress is slow and steady. I was honoured to be asked to join a critique group this week and am pleased with the valuable and honest feedback they have been giving me in regard to my prologue and chapter one. I look forward to reading their pieces and helping them out as well.

This is my Inspiration Monday piece for BeKindRewrite’s most recent challenge:

The Curse of Immortality

He could see the grey hairs beginning to appear. He had noticed the lines forming at the corners of the eyes and mouth. He knew the body was not as firm as it once was and the skin was losing its elasticity. He understood that these things were all inevitable no matter how much he had tried to deny it. He told himself it didn’t matter, what was age anyway? It was just a number. But deep down he always knew that this day would come. He just did not expect to wake up alone today.

He got up and went to the closet. All her things were still there but he feared she was gone for good. He crawled back into bed. She hadn’t been gone for long. Her place in the bed was still warm. Her scent still lingered in the air around him, conjuring up memories. He wanted her and almost needed her to return.

The first time he had ever seen her was at her book signing. She was twenty-two and already a first time published author. She was sat at a little table hunched over a laptop, typing away. There was a stack of books around her. No one was asking her to sign any of the books and he figured she was lonely. He had been looking for a book on plumbing as his pipes had been playing up again but he decided that could wait. He walked over to the table and picked up one of her books.

“So what do you write?” he tried to be debonair.

“Paranormal romance,” she looked up at him. He thought if eyes could smile her eyes were smiling at him.

“Oh, that is my favourite,” he had never heard of it.

“Really?” she actually was smiling at him now. “Do you want me to sign a copy of my new book for you?”

“Yes, but only if you include your phone number,” he wanted to kick himself, he was being way too forward but he had always been attracted to brunettes.

She rolled her eyes as she quickly scrawled her signature in the book. She handed it over, politely thanked him and them went back to typing. He took the book and walked away feeling deflated. He forgot all about the plumbing book and walked out of the shop still carrying her book, unpaid for. He headed to the park to people watch and plunked down on a bench. He was about to toss the book in the rubbish bin next to him but he opened it instead. Her name was Kay Marsh and under her signature was a phone number. He went home and read the entire book and then phoned her to ask her out on a date.

She was unusually excepting of his lifestyle and he adored her artsy quirks. They were the perfect couple. They had talked about making a lifelong commitment to each other but Kay was never ready for that and he never pushed her. He was just happy to have her to love. He spent the best years of his life with her.

Then last night she brought up the difference in their ages and how others might see them as an odd couple. He was shocked she even cared because he had been naïve and never thought of it as an issue. To him theirs was a relationship based on love not appearance.

He heard the lock to the front door click. She was back. She entered the bedroom silently, black trails dripped from her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

“Can you really live with a forty-year old woman?” She climbed in next to him and he pulled her close.

“You know I can,” he was just grateful she was back.

“and you don’t care that people think you are half my age.”

“When have I ever cared what people think about us?”

“Then I want to stay this age forever,” he could tell she was serious this time.

When he had drained her of enough blood to stop her heart he gently placed her on the bed. He cleaned her up and sat and waited. He knew the transition was not easy but he would be with her. Today she gave him the gift of an eternal companion and he couldn’t help but shudder because he had just given her the curse of immortality.

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About Billie Jo Schinnerer

Born and raised on the edge of the Helderberg Escarpment in eastern New York. Formerly a primary and middle school teacher. Moved to the North West area of England in 2003. Now a mother of three and a wannabe author.
This entry was posted in Flash Fiction Stories and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

16 Responses to The Curse of Immortality

  1. Omg, this is an amazing story, with such a perfect switch-back. The love story is definitely there, but the ending is expected and yet deliciously dark. LOVE it! Lady, you have serious talent. You should put together a collection of your flash stories and market them as a flash anthology.

  2. Billie Jo, I will yet again have to second someones opinion, this time other than your own very definitely talented self, for I totally agree with Ms. Sandra, you have some very serious talent for someone who is obviously young. And girl, you need to do something with it. Don’t let anyone or anything stop you from embracing this wonderful gift you have. Don’t let others destroy your dreams as I did, only to try to regather lost ground in the winter of my life.

    Sweetie, I am not just mouthing at you, I am absolutely dead serious, you have a rare and beautiful gift and the world would be so much poorer if you do not share it.

    Wishing you many wonderful blessings and “thinking” you a very humongerous cyber hug for luck and happiness.

    marantha

    • Thank you Marantha! You are such a fabulous cheerleader, I appreciate the encouragement and the cyber hug!

    • Sandra says:

      Marantha, don’t give up yourself. I think you could use a dose of encouragement from someone who works with writers. From the way you wrote the message to Billie Jo, I would say you have a very nice style–energetic, clear, and just waiting to be read. Go for it…write up a storm and devil take the hindermost 😀

      *hug*

      • YOU ARE VERY PERCEPTIVE, RATHER UNNERVINGLY SO, AS A MATTER OF FACT. MY SELF CONFIDENCE IS TAKING A REAL BEATING RIGHT NOW.

        YOU SEE, DESPITE OVER A THOUSAND REPORT READERS ACCORDING TO THE SITE COUNTERS, I HAVEN’T HAD BUT MAYBE TWENTY TO THIRTY COMMENTS, AND THOSE SAID READERS HAVE DWINDLED TO NEARLY NONE FOR OVER TWO WEEKS NOW.

        IT DOES NOT HELP WHEN I SEE EVERYONE OF THOSE I FOLLOW GETTING COMMENTS RIGHT, LEFT AND SIDEWAYS, AND I GET ZILCH. I GUESS MY STYLE OF WRITING IS SO BORING PEOPLE CAN’T EVEN GET UP ENOUGH ENTHUSIASM TO COMMENT.

        EITHER THAT OR IT IS SO BORING THEY DON’T GET PAST THE FIRST THREE SENTENCE.

        I KNOW YOU DON’T KNOW ME, AND I WANT TO THANK YOU FOR TAKING TIME FROM YOUR BUSY LIFE TO OFFER A WORD OF ENCOURAGEMENT TO A STRANGER, BUT I HAVE A FAVOR TO ASK. YOU SAY YOU WORK WITH WRITERS, WELL, IF YOU HAVE TIME, COULD YOU GO IN TO MY SITES, THE LINKS FOR WHICH I WILL GIVE AT THE END OF THIS MESSAGE, AND SEE IF YOU CAN FIGURE WHY PEOPLE AREN’T RESPONDING? I AM GETTING MORE AND MORE DISCOURAGED WITH EACH PASSING DAY WATCHING THOSE I FOLLOW GET COMMENT AFTER COMMENT WHERE PEOPLE ACKNOWLEDGE THEM AND I AM LEFT WITH NOTHING BUT SILENCE. IT HURTS AND IT VERY DEFINITELY DOES NOT BODE WELL FOR MY HOPES OF GETTING AN AGENT FOR MY NEWEST BOOK, “THE IHMAEERAN CHRONICLES”.

        IN TRUTH, I AM BEGINNING TO WONDER IF I AM DELUDING MYSELF THAT I HAVE TALENT.

        PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU CAN CHECK MY SITE OUT, OR IF YOU DO GO THERE, AT LEAST LEAVE A MESSAGE TO LET ME KNOW YOU WERE THERE.

        THANK YOU BOTH FOR THE ATTEMPTED CONFIDENCE BOOST AND IN ADVANCE FOR ANY HELP YOU MIGHT BE ABLE TO RENDER.

        MARANTHA

        THE LINKS TO MY POSTS…

        http://1wordywoman.wordpress.com/ [THIS IS MY MAIN ONE, IT IS CALLED “GHOSTWRITER”, FOR THAT IS WHAT I FEEL LIKE…A GHOST WRITING IN INVISIBLE INK.]

        http://1wordywoman.wordpress.com/random-rambles/

        http://1wordywoman.wordpress.com/random-rambles/

        http://1wordywoman.wordpress.com/about/

        http://1wordywoman.wordpress.com/points-to-ponder-a-collection-of-little-things-that-make-up-my-life/

        http://werepeople2.wordpress.com/

        http://insearchofadream.wordpress.com/

      • Marantha, I went to your main site (Ghostwriter) and read your poem and “Irony.” Do you have an email address where I could write to you?

      • Marantha – email sent.

  3. Woah. I got smacked upside the head. And the paranormal romance bit is so ironic! This fit together amazingly. Great job.
    Best of luck editing the novel!

    • Thanks for yet another fantastic prompt! I am glad you liked it. Your prompts seem to make me go a bit darker than my usual style but I have liked the results each time.

  4. ms. sandra, email me at words2ponder@gmail.com. i am online right now and awake, as i am fighting both mania and depression.

    marantha

    that is my auxilliary address, i will provide you with my primary one one you have made contact, as i do not publicly post if unless i cannot avoid it. someone hacked me two weeks ago and is sending out pornographic messages. i had to change every single one of my five email address passwords. i was not, as you can no doubt imagine, happy.

    hope to hear from you soon.

    marantha jenelle

  5. This story totally waylaid me. I was expecting something else. I had to go back and reread. What a great job you did of building and tying things in.

  6. I hit post before I was finished. Maybe that is why one shouldn’t work and try to post at the same time!
    I wanted to add that I agree with other comments here that you have real talent.
    Looking forward to more of your work.

  7. Pingback: Inspiration Monday XII « BeKindRewrite

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