| Supernatural Fiction posted July 16, 2019 |
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500-word Flash Fiction Offering from Colonial Williamsburg
Her Very Own Piece of History
by Y. M. Roger
“Your last day seems the slowest, yes?”
Cheryl startled.
“Good Lord, Thomas!” She caught herself and stepped back up on the stool. “You need to wear a bell like a cat!”
Smoothing down the layers over her hoop skirt and adjusting her frontier-period up-do, Cheryl placed the stool behind the checkout counter to close out her till for the day.
Tourist traffic in Colonial Williamsburg had slowed markedly these last days before her return to school – excessive heat combined with an approaching tropical storm had seen to that. As a result, the gift shop had received a complete cleaning and product rearrangement. Cheryl considered it a win-win: the shop was much more attractive, and she was not bored to death.
“Ahhh, dear Cheryl, a bell would be of no assistance for my current state.”
She laughed at his words once again. Thomas was very formal in both actions and speech – so much so that, along with his costume, he was always in perfect character.
The other two girls that worked Craig House always stared at her oddly and giggled when she asked them about Thomas. There’s only three of us assigned to this house, Cheryl!
Teenagers. They just wanted to get through each day for volunteer hours on their high school resumes. On the other hand, Cheryl manned the gift shop in exchange for free access to the Williamsburg historical records to complete her master’s thesis.
Maybe that’s why she and Thomas had formed such a close-knit friendship this Summer – he was a living vault of information, it seemed. Given different circumstances, Cheryl knew there could be more between them, but Thomas was at least forty or more years her senior. Yet, even with his age, she’d had to avoid getting lost in those ice-blue eyes…so alluring despite being surrounded by those many wrinkles.
Thomas worked ‘behind the scenes’ – his words – throughout Craig House. Cheryl figured such was the reason he never attended daily employee meetings before they opened for tourists – he didn’t have to deal with them. Lucky him.
“The bell would help me, Thomas!”
“Mmm, perhaps if ‘twere not our final day together…”
She sighed, saddened by his words - she'd grown quite attached to him.
“Gonna miss you, Thomas.” Cheryl steeled her will. “Wish you could come wi–”
She turned to give him the hug she’d been working up her courage for all Summer, but he was gone. Disappointed, she realized she had no way to contact him.
Driving away, Cheryl glanced in her rearview mirror a final time but had to brake to avoid a man in the road. She rolled down the passenger window to apologize.
“I’m so sor–”
The familiar pale blue eyes on that young, handsome face stole her voice. He placed his toned forearms on the door and leaned inside. There was a tinkling of a single bell hung on a leather strap around his muscular neck.
“Mind if I come with?”
Now, how could she say ‘no’ to that?
Flash Fiction Writing Contest contest entry
“Your last day seems the slowest, yes?”
Cheryl startled.
“Good Lord, Thomas!” She caught herself and stepped back up on the stool. “You need to wear a bell like a cat!”
Smoothing down the layers over her hoop skirt and adjusting her frontier-period up-do, Cheryl placed the stool behind the checkout counter to close out her till for the day.
Tourist traffic in Colonial Williamsburg had slowed markedly these last days before her return to school – excessive heat combined with an approaching tropical storm had seen to that. As a result, the gift shop had received a complete cleaning and product rearrangement. Cheryl considered it a win-win: the shop was much more attractive, and she was not bored to death.
“Ahhh, dear Cheryl, a bell would be of no assistance for my current state.”
She laughed at his words once again. Thomas was very formal in both actions and speech – so much so that, along with his costume, he was always in perfect character.
The other two girls that worked Craig House always stared at her oddly and giggled when she asked them about Thomas. There’s only three of us assigned to this house, Cheryl!
Teenagers. They just wanted to get through each day for volunteer hours on their high school resumes. On the other hand, Cheryl manned the gift shop in exchange for free access to the Williamsburg historical records to complete her master’s thesis.
Maybe that’s why she and Thomas had formed such a close-knit friendship this Summer – he was a living vault of information, it seemed. Given different circumstances, Cheryl knew there could be more between them, but Thomas was at least forty or more years her senior. Yet, even with his age, she’d had to avoid getting lost in those ice-blue eyes…so alluring despite being surrounded by those many wrinkles.
Thomas worked ‘behind the scenes’ – his words – throughout Craig House. Cheryl figured such was the reason he never attended daily employee meetings before they opened for tourists – he didn’t have to deal with them. Lucky him.
“The bell would help me, Thomas!”
“Mmm, perhaps if ‘twere not our final day together…”
She sighed, saddened by his words - she'd grown quite attached to him.
“Gonna miss you, Thomas.” Cheryl steeled her will. “Wish you could come wi–”
She turned to give him the hug she’d been working up her courage for all Summer, but he was gone. Disappointed, she realized she had no way to contact him.
Driving away, Cheryl glanced in her rearview mirror a final time but had to brake to avoid a man in the road. She rolled down the passenger window to apologize.
“I’m so sor–”
The familiar pale blue eyes on that young, handsome face stole her voice. He placed his toned forearms on the door and leaned inside. There was a tinkling of a single bell hung on a leather strap around his muscular neck.
“Mind if I come with?”
Now, how could she say ‘no’ to that?
Cheryl startled.
“Good Lord, Thomas!” She caught herself and stepped back up on the stool. “You need to wear a bell like a cat!”
Smoothing down the layers over her hoop skirt and adjusting her frontier-period up-do, Cheryl placed the stool behind the checkout counter to close out her till for the day.
Tourist traffic in Colonial Williamsburg had slowed markedly these last days before her return to school – excessive heat combined with an approaching tropical storm had seen to that. As a result, the gift shop had received a complete cleaning and product rearrangement. Cheryl considered it a win-win: the shop was much more attractive, and she was not bored to death.
“Ahhh, dear Cheryl, a bell would be of no assistance for my current state.”
She laughed at his words once again. Thomas was very formal in both actions and speech – so much so that, along with his costume, he was always in perfect character.
The other two girls that worked Craig House always stared at her oddly and giggled when she asked them about Thomas. There’s only three of us assigned to this house, Cheryl!
Teenagers. They just wanted to get through each day for volunteer hours on their high school resumes. On the other hand, Cheryl manned the gift shop in exchange for free access to the Williamsburg historical records to complete her master’s thesis.
Maybe that’s why she and Thomas had formed such a close-knit friendship this Summer – he was a living vault of information, it seemed. Given different circumstances, Cheryl knew there could be more between them, but Thomas was at least forty or more years her senior. Yet, even with his age, she’d had to avoid getting lost in those ice-blue eyes…so alluring despite being surrounded by those many wrinkles.
Thomas worked ‘behind the scenes’ – his words – throughout Craig House. Cheryl figured such was the reason he never attended daily employee meetings before they opened for tourists – he didn’t have to deal with them. Lucky him.
“The bell would help me, Thomas!”
“Mmm, perhaps if ‘twere not our final day together…”
She sighed, saddened by his words - she'd grown quite attached to him.
“Gonna miss you, Thomas.” Cheryl steeled her will. “Wish you could come wi–”
She turned to give him the hug she’d been working up her courage for all Summer, but he was gone. Disappointed, she realized she had no way to contact him.
Driving away, Cheryl glanced in her rearview mirror a final time but had to brake to avoid a man in the road. She rolled down the passenger window to apologize.
“I’m so sor–”
The familiar pale blue eyes on that young, handsome face stole her voice. He placed his toned forearms on the door and leaned inside. There was a tinkling of a single bell hung on a leather strap around his muscular neck.
“Mind if I come with?”
Now, how could she say ‘no’ to that?
 Recognized |
#193 2019 |
Whew! Exactly 500 words according to Microsoft Word. ;) ;) Thank you for reading me! ;)
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