Category Archives: Deelylah Mullin

Flash Fiction Mondays

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This month’s song flash fiction is inspired by The Wind Blows by The All-American Rejects. If you’re interested, below are links to the lyrics and a video for the song.

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/allamericanrejects/thewindblows.html

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The cracks in the ceiling were starting to make pictures in my mind. The far corner was an airplane, the group by the bathroom door was a mountain range, but the set over my head, that was a bleeding heart. Poetic, right? Try pathetic.

It’s been four months since she left and this is how I spend most of my days, lying in bed, staring at the cracks on the ceiling and the walls. Trying to figure out how I ended up here. We had been happy, I thought, until the day she walked out on me and left me with nothing but this sad room.

Across the room, a soft beeping pulled me out of my thoughts. I hadn’t even noticed it was so late in the day, but time to get up and get started with my evening. I let the alarm continue for longer then necessary, enjoying the rhythmic sound that matched the tapping of my fingers. Finally, I pulled myself out of bed and shut off the alarm. Time to get ready for work.

The cafe across the street from the restaurant was a perfect place to sit in the evening and observe, and there were enough theater kids that my mostly black wardrobe didn’t stand out too much. And it definitely needed to blend later.

I sat, drinking my coffee, reading a book, and waiting. Watching. And there she was, bringing drinks to a table on the front patio of the restaurant. She looked the same as always, my Amy, long dark hair that she wore in a braid down her back, minimal make-up, and the required bright-colored t-shirt for her waitressing job. She looked amazing.

The rest of Amy’s shift went slowly, brightened only by my glimpses of her each time she had to come outside. But that was okay, I could wait. This wasn’t the first time I had sat at this cafe, spent my evening here, watching. Finally, she left for the night. I let her go, I didn’t need to follow, I knew where she was going and I knew the way.

Outside her window, I waited for the lights to go out. Once they did, I climbed up the tree to her second floor bedroom window which was cracked. She always did like to sleep with the window open. As silently as possible, I climbed inside and set my bag of tools on the floor next to the bed.

“Hello, Amy,” I said, as I sat down next to her. Her eyes flew open and I put my hand over her mouth. “You took my heart when you left. Now I’m going to take yours.”

 

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Bronwyn Green | Deelylah Mullin | Kris Norris | Siobhan Muir

Flash Fiction Mondays

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 Walking into Nick’s apartment I let out a little scream. “What the hell is that?”

“What? My painting?” he asked. “It’s my term project.”

“That’s your self portrait for Turner’s class?

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?”

Nick sounded hurt, or maybe offended that I didn’t seem to love his work.

“It’s, just, a little disturbing. Especially, considering that its supposed to be a SELF portrait. Also, its a little…well…clockwork-y.”

“That’s the point, Darla.”

“I know what it makes me think of! Oh my gosh, that’s why it’s so disturbing. You’ve been watching too much Doctor Who again!”

Nick let out an offended huff. “Okay, first of all, there is no such thing as too much Doctor Who.”

“True, my apologies,” I said.

“Second, don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looked a little too innocent though. Like he was trying to pretend he didn’t know every episode of the show by heart.

“It reminds me of those creepy-ass clockwork people from that stupid episode with fireplace.”

“How dare you insult The Girl in the Fireplace!”

“Ha! I knew it! That WAS your inspiration. Some self portrait.” I turned back to look at the picture again, the gears on the face, the gold paint, the various pipes and pieces of metal. “I don’t get what its supposed to say about you, though.”

Nick looked at the picture with me for a minute, pondering. “I guess its supposed to say, ‘I’m more than just a man, I’m not merely human.'” He seemed very pleased with himself at that deduction.

“Hmmmm, all I get is creepy-ass clockwork. But I’m sure Turner will love it. A+ my friend. A+.”

| Bronwyn Green | Jess Jarman | Kris Norris | Deelylah Mullin |

Flash Fiction Mondays

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The cape only added to the heat, the heavy velvet trapped the humidity and made it even harder to breathe. But is was part of the mystery, no one was allowed to wear “normal” clothing or bring any sort of technology to the gatherings. 

I made my way down the colonnade, hurrying so I wouldn’t miss the beginning and be locked out. I didn’t see anyone else but that didn’t necessarily mean I was the last to arrive. There were so many ways to approach the gathering place that it was almost as if the others appeared as if from nowhere.

As I got closer, I could hear voices, low and musical. Just talking at this point, so I wasn’t late. I slipped through the door and joined the first group I saw. 

“Are we starting, soon?” I asked.

“Soon,” one of the others said. “We’re just waiting for the signal.”

Just a couple of minutes later, the signal came. The lights went out and silence fell immediately. There was shuffling as everyone got into position, at this point we all knew our places and didn’t need illumination to know where to go.

The silence endured as we waited for it to begin, our whole reason for being here.

Suddenly, the quiet was broken by a loud, single beat. Then another. On the third beat, the movements began. Synchronized and swirling, we moved, forgetting about the oppressive heat. It went on for minutes, the choreographed chaos.

The music stopped and we all froze.

“Alright, everyone,” came the voice from the balacony. “That was better. But this flash mob is happening in just a couple of weeks. We need to be on point. Again!”
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Jess Jarman | Deelylah Mullin | Bronwyn Green | Kris Norris