Monday Morning Flash Fiction Challenge #16
By Amy C
Word Count – 317
Desolation is the path in which I walk. Lonely and troubled, my feet carry me down the twisted and gnarled road. And what do I spy with my saddened eyes, but three crows. I pondered their significance. Is it my death? Or is an omen of bad luck in my future? I recollected an old rhyme I’d heard my mother say while she fiddled around the house about these mysterious black birds. Her sing-song voice streamed into my head, and I found my own voice repeating aloud the words to the rhyme:
One for sorrow, two for mirth,
Three for a wedding, four for a birth,
Five for silver, six for gold,
Seven for a secret not to be told.
Eight for heaven, nine for hell,
And ten for the devil's own sel'.
Three for a wedding. I laughed derisively at the thought of a wedding. But as I mused over the idea, I observed a lightness to my step. I began to fancy the idea of a wedding. Of course, I would need a man first, but that was neither here nor there. I never thought my heart could swell with such jubilation at the thought of a wedding—for me.
I smiled up at the crows as I passed under them along the darkened path, and all of a sudden I found myself free-falling toward the hardened earth. At first, I lay there stunned, unfeeling, but then an agonizing pain splintered through my head, zinging through every nerve of my body.
I smelled the pungent odor of blood, felt the cold embrace of death. I angled my head slightly, peering up at those three damning black birds, which now flew in circles above me, squawking a mocking squeal of triumph.
I closed my eyes, reflecting on the irony of my situation. The only marriage I’d be celebrating is that of my soul to the afterlife.
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Better late than never, right? :)