|Fantasy * Science Fiction * Archaeological * Historical
As featured in our newsletter, we present new flash fiction by Michael A. Burstein:
by Michael A. Burstein
I WATCH CAREFULLY from a distance as Miranda dances. She spins slowly, then
more quickly, until her skirts of red and blue converge into a swirling violet.
As she dances, the three moons begin to coalesce around the seeds she has planted for
them. We are on the edge of twilight, and the three crescents take up a huge portion of
the indigo sky.
I feel a chill in my bones, which sinks deep into my chest, when I realize just how
much of the sky the moons have consumed. Miranda dances on, oblivious to the danger.
I’m not used to running anymore, but I close the distance between us as rapidly as
possible. The thin air feels cold against my face as I run over the hill toward Miranda,
and by the time I reach her, I am gasping for breath. She puts her right hand on my left
shoulder and eases me onto the ground.
“This is impossible,” I say after I catch my breath.
“Why?” she asks.
I point at the three moons hanging low in the sky. “Their orbits are unstable.”
She grabs my hands. “Let your imagination run free,” she says.
I shake my head sadly. “I cannot,” I say. “I cannot accept the impossibility of the
situation. This is—it’s simply unreal.”
Miranda stands up and looks at me sadly. She fades away, and I realize my mistake too
“Miranda!” I shout, but I am too late. The moons have vanished, taking her away.
Copyright (c) Michael A. Burstein