SHORT FICTION

Thursday, 22 October 2015

FLASH FICTION-THE BLUE POET

 
 
Hello everyone! Today I have a flash fiction piece. I hope you  enjoy and have a great weekend! 
 
 
 
 
 
The Blue Poet
 
 I was sitting in the flower garden with my sketchbook. It was a perfect day.
I thought I had seen a blue flash but I thought it was a flower.
But it wasn't a flower.
I felt eyes on me suddenly. I looked out the corner of my eye and I could see the most beautiful blue wings. But eyes?
I went back to my sketch and then I really felt eyes on me. I set the sketchbook down beside me.
He was sitting in another chair in the garden. His blue eyes shone. I held my breath.
A shy smile slowly formed on his face. I kinda smiled back.
"I like your drawings."
"Thank you. Who are you?"
"I'm Sapphire but some call me the blue poet." His voice was as soft as the warm breeze.
I thought maybe I was seeing things but I think he had blue butterfly wings neatly folded behind him.
He came a little closer. "Would you draw me?"
I nodded and picked up my sketch book. The moment felt very surreal. When I looked at his face, I knew he was not like me. Those blue eyes were ethereal and a bit cat like. I sketched like mad trying to capture what I thought was my imagination. 
While I sketched he told me a story. It was about a lonely girl who fell in love with a faerie. He took her to his world but she missed her family. He took her back but her family was already gone as so much time had passed. She had no choice but to go back with him. He kept her in a tower made of flowers and ivy. She loved him and she soon forgot who she was. He made her his wife. He smiled at me when he said the last sentence.
I could feel a chill run up my spine. He got a little closer and that's when a big blue jay came flying in and landed on a nearby bird fountain. It made a loud noise.
I heard a flutter of wings beside me. I dropped the sketchbook. The blue jay made another loud squawk.
When I picked up the sketch book, Sapphire was gone but the blue jay was still there. He landed on the ground in front of me.
There was no one around. This time he spoke to me. "Stay away from the blue poet. He steels young girls."
Then he flew up into the air and flew away.
When I looked down at my sketch, I had drawn a butterfly.  
 
 

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