Opal Flash Fiction Sandi Whipple the Mist

The Mist, by Sandi Whipple

The Mist

The thunder was almost continuous. Rising from the bed, I walked to the open window. The moon peeked over the dark clouds leaving a long narrow line of glimmer across the lake. Thunderstorms were quick to arrive in this summer heat. Tonight, strangely, there was no rain. Only thunder and lightning.

Turning toward the cool sheets, I saw movement. Placing both hands on the sill, I pushed my face slightly out the window. I noticed a small bluish cloud rising from the glimmer on the lake. The cloud hovered for a moment, then began to rise off the lake, and move toward the house.

Was it really moving, or was my imagination playing tricks? I blinked, then became alarmed. The blue cloud was now directly in front of me, and changing shape. As I slowly backed away, it followed me, through the open window. When I backed into the bed, I sat straight up. Breathing was now difficult in the hot dark bedroom.

As the blue cloud took the shape of a man, I was cooled by a light mist as it loomed over me. I tried to cry out, but there was no sound. When his hands slowly wrapped around my throat, I found my voice. My own eardrums vibrated from the scream.

The room suddenly became alive with light and sound. A man asked, “Were you dreaming again?”

Laying back I told him “I’ve had nothing but nightmares since we moved to your house by the lake. I hate it here, almost as much as I hate you.”

A nurse entered and asked, “How is she? Another nightmare?”

He responded with, “She thinks I’m her husband again. She sure snapped after drowning him, huh? And why is the floor soaking wet between the window and the bed?”

Opal Flash Fiction Contest 2nd Runner-up: Sandi Whipple

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Read More:

The Lake (The Promise) By M.J. Preston


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