Friday, February 20, 2015


Dora studied him over her cup of cocoa and tried to discreetly rub her nose and smooth her hair at the same time; the steam was making her chilled nose run.
He caught her staring and she blushed but didn’t look away. She held her breath until he scooted closer. Their knees now touched.
Bump. Bump. Bump.
She looked up. “What’s that noise?”
“Oh, those are just Grandma’s masks.” He pulled a red plaid curtain aside to display a string of clay masks. “They remind me of windchimes.”
Her smile slipped. “Harold, there’s no wind inside.”
“Oh, that’s just them breathing.”

This short story is a part of the illustrious Flash Fiction Friday. Read the other lovely stories, spun off the prompt (which is the picture with this post) at the links below!


  1. Ah, man, this is one I'd love to follow. The love story is cute, and the guy is interesting, being super chill about the breathing masks. I'm also intrigued by the magic. I really liked this one; you set the mood really well.

  2. Thank you! I actually would love to flesh this one out more. There were some details I left out that made me think there was something more. So I'm glad you still think the mood was set well :D