6. Kathryn
230 Words
Kathryn
6
Tears had rained down on another wee grave behind the homestead that day. Flora fell back on the bed and saw terror in her husband’s eyes, acknowledging Flora’s sickness and his own powerlessness. Flora could smell his fear. It came out his pores and filled the small, over-heated room with the stink of it. Flora’s spirit raged and crashed into the corners of her rib cage, distraught and restless, devastated that her love for her children hadn’t saved even one from the fevers. She felt her eyes grow too large for her face, and her breath grow too hot for her lungs. She knew she wasn’t long for this world, and she was terrified of leaving her poor man alone.
He would be alone.
Flora’s soul screamed until Kathryn awoke, thrashing and sweaty. It was the only time Flora had ever sent a memory—let alone a nightmare. The memory was shadowy, gray. Not like the golden-tinted dreams that Flora sent.
Kathryn blinked sleep from her eyes, heart pounding. It was the time of morning before the sun rose, before the rooster crowed. She coughed, untangled herself, and sat up on the side of the bed. The air in her room felt creepy now, like there were bugs crawling up her neck. She opened her window wide and shook herself, releasing the black negativity that followed her from the dream world.
Janet, the Westie, did the same.
- Writer
