X
X

once upon a time...

Postcard-sized flash fiction about the strangeness of life and death and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

Chinook winds

I think about moving south, away from the mountains, but the chinook winds blow me back every time. I want to run away, pretend I’m alive, but this morning, I know its too late for all that.
 
There’s a knock. I open the door wondering if I’m letting in the living or the dead. A girl, maybe twelve-years-old, holds out a paper lunch bag clutched in her tiny fist. Here, it’s for your trip, she says. I check inside the bag. Apples cut up neat and a sandwich. Tuna fish, she says, holding up her other hand, fingers spread out then clasping mine.
 
There’s no question I’ll go wherever she leads. She knows it too. I don’t bother closing the door behind us, just walk hand in hand into the cold, cold morning. Tuna fish is my favorite, I say. She nods like she knew it all along. If you look up, watch the clouds, it helps, she says, makes it easier to let go of this place. At least that’s what I’ve been told.
 
There’s no reason not to believe her, so I look up and let her tug me along. The branches wave me on, their bone-white fingers pointing to the heavens and all things timeless. The blue, I’m lost in it. Never did get to eat that sandwich. But there are worse things. Plenty worse.

2 Replies to “Chinook winds”

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

graphic of the word Courage

Word of the Year-2025

For my 2025 word of the year, I chose COURAGE. I know, it’s not the most original pick—but hear me out. Something about courage stuck with me this time, especially after watching a documentary on The Tragically Hip. For those unfamiliar, they’re kind of a Canadian thing. A band that

Read More »
White barn with stormy background

Hinterland is Real

They say seeing is believing. I didn’t know what that meant until that night. I was coming home late, later than I should, and I knew I was going to catch heck. Momma didn’t even pretend to be patient when me or my sister wasn’t home in time for dinner.

Read More »
Postcard-sized flash fiction about the things we think we know about others, life, death, and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

Deadly Mist

The mist crept closer, slithering across the boot prints she left behind on the soft, moist ground. She urged her legs to go faster over the uneven path. A leafless tree grabbed at the flying strands of her long silver hair as she ran past. They hung like shiny tinsel

Read More »

Newsletter

Get release updates and your FREE story, just tell me where to send it.

 

Let’s Connect

All written material and images found on this site belong to Carmen Kern and Djinn & Tonic Publications. Ⓒ 2024. Read Privacy Policies and Cookie Policy here.