Friday Flash Fiction 9
Filed under Flash Fiction • Friday Flash Fiction • 31-08-2007 •
No tags for this post.MY NEW EYES
By Gareth L PowellThe butterfly farm’s almost too much. I have to close my new eyes. The air in the hothouse smells of compost and flowers. The butterflies are scraps and splashes of colour between the leaves.
“Are you all right?”
Cathy puts a hand on my arm. She leads me out to the car park and we sit on the grass. It isn’t until she passes me a tissue that I realise I’ve been crying.
Beyond the car park, waving green fields stretch down to a winding stream. The sun is hot and I feel overwhelmed, tired. I ask her to take me home and she drives me all the way back down the A38 to Bristol in her old Citroen.
I keep my new eyes closed the whole way.
I like the way you’ve tied it to a very recognisable now.
I leaped into this one without reading the title, which produced a fantastic double-take that really kicked it home. Super work, and demonstrates the power of a title – with a different frame, it could be a totally different story.