I hope you all had a good lunch and enjoyed the music. It’s time now for some flash fiction from Cath Bore.
THE CYCLE OF LIFE
When soil gets wet it swells from hard grey to a moist crumbly black increasing its fertility a hundredfold, but bloody soil remains intact, or so Brian learned when he cut the dog and she bled into the ground. The field stayed firm and impervious like nothing unusual occurred, as if the animal still breathed. The soil lied. He’d never taken a life before and he expected something dramatic, big, for Mother Nature to shout at him with lightning, spit down uncomfortable rain at least, but the sky stayed the same blue, the sun casting out a calm lemon light licking the back of his neck as he dug her grave.
When he went back home the police came round about Sarah, knocking on his door and making a fuss but they had nothing on him so went away, and he supposed he should be happy about that but dissatisfaction dampened his spirits. Later, when Sarah’s father learned what he’d done, he punctured Brian’s eyes blind in an effort to make him confess but Brian pinned his lips tight and said nothing, noting the other man’s fury.
Nowadays, Brian sits in prison staring at a wall he can’t see, yet pictures in his mind the field where he buried the girl, and imagines, wishes, hopes at least, nutrients from her flesh nourish the earth.
Copyright © Cath Bore, 2015
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