Bless Her Heart

Wednesday has come around again and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction.

Jyth allowed a ripple to travel through the feathers over his back as he alighted curiously on the stone arch. Cocking his head, he turned an eye toward the girl below. Her black dress and hair rippled in waves defined by tears in the cloth or clumped strands. Rippled, even though the air was dead.

She stared intently her hands raised but not touching either side of the arch. Twisting his head further, Jyth peered where the woman was looking. Undefined shapes wavered across a silvery surface.

Ahhh. The mirror’s shine had captured her. Bless her heart. Mortals never did well with the mirror. They were too consumed. Consumed with might be and not what is. Jyth could have, for example, wished for the air to flow, to move, to carry him higher. But it didn’t.

And staring so she missed the beauty surrounding which rivaled anything that reflected. For instance, she hadn’t noticed his magnificent black feathers at all. He cawed loudly, and still she ignored him stretching a finger toward the silvery surface.

The stone trembled beneath Jyth sending him fleeing for open sky. Looking back, he cried at the woman again and caught sight of what she stared at. Herself, only changed. The dark dress’ harsh edges were transformed into a flowing, whole pale blue gown and her twisted hair lay smooth. Her face reflected of wonder.

Humans. Always searching for more. Jyth strained against the dead air as he sought a new moment’s resting place.

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