The recently concluded Short Story Day Africa #WriterPrompt competition on Facebook had this photograph of rain falling on concrete, as the inspiration for 200-word limit flash fiction. Here is my submission:
Thanks to the Curse, when it rains, and the Half Witch (or half-wit, as my grandma calls her) spots a crow flying across the rising moon, it was my job to stand at Sanctuary Gate and kill dead people. The Sacred Ground Act prevented me from entering the tombs and incinerating the remains of my brother’s 9th Regiment. Even though they were technically slaves, the SGA meant I had to wait for them to come through the phase gate, back into the world.
Crowd Control used their shields to keep the gawkers behind the cordon. The half-wit came closer. Her sinewy arms reached towards the phase gate. The gate crackled and her thin black snake serpentined out. The snake slithered up the Half Witch’s body, and disappeared into her ear. Her eyes rolled back to the whites and her head snapped back. The reeking locks, heavy from the rain. My stomach threatened to vacate.
I felt ridiculous, standing in the drizzle, naked, holding a ritual scythe. The dead are risen and the council insists on the decorum of ceremony.
“HERE THEY COME!” someone yelled. My teeth clattered from the cold and I gripped the handles tightly.
Image credits: D Sharon Pruitt – “Moody Raindrops In Dark Blue Puddle”