More than one child finds a world in the hedge. First Benjamin did, and now, another kid gets their turn to decide.
I call this sequel of sorts:
“I really would not do that,” he said, and the girl spun on her expensive shoes. She gave the boy with the odd clothes and the curving nose a hard glare.
“Why, are there monsters?” the girl asked. She held up her pocket knife, and grinned. “Because I’m ready for those.” Continue reading
Time to continue our journey to a new place with the second part (click here for the first part) of a flash fiction called:
Benjamin opened his mouth and only uttered out the simple question of: “Who are you?”
The boy crossed his arms and swayed from side to side. He was wearing a strange outfit upon further inspection: a purple and yellow pair of pants, and a deep crimson red shirt. All the clothe looked threadbare and worn out.
“I’m not sure, actually. I tried to figure it out one time: but I had a headache.” Continue reading
In this flash fiction, beyond the hedge: there is a world. A world containing a choice, a boy, and something…off.
I call it:
—
Benjamin Nosh, age thirteen, stared at the gap in the wall of hedges. He was sure he’d never seen it there before, not in all the days he’d walked home from school.
He leaned forward, peering inside, but only found a second, further away wall of hedges stretching in either direction. Benjamin, back when he lived in Illinois, had spent some time in a corn maze at a festival, and this looked much the same. Like a hallway made of foliage. Continue reading
“Calm down.”
This boy is going to reach critical mass. I can hear my associates chatter in my earpiece, telling me to get away.
“It’s okay now.”
He clutches the top of his head. His shadows are moving off the ground, rising up towards him in rock-like crags. A maw trying to eat him.
“I know it hurts, but you need to just stay calm.” I have my fingers on my gun. Continue reading
