Who I met at the Clothesline
Flash fiction
It was a cool autumn evening and the sun
was starting to set. I needed to go out to the clothesline and get the blankets
down. When the darkness started to creep in, I always let my imagination run
wild.
Why I did that I
don’t know. There was never anything there. It was just the evening coming to a
close and getting darker at that time of year. This time however, I wasn’t
thinking about it and as I was pulling in the clothesline, it made that
squealing noise that seemed to echo into the darkness. It was the last blanket
that I was pulling in when it stopped. I couldn’t pull it in. There was
something holding it back. I figured it got snagged on the something. It
sometimes happened.
But before I got down the steps to
investigate, I seen a slim dark figure. I almost screamed but when he smiled, I
just froze instead. There was something about him that told me he was not
human. He was holding onto the blanket. His fingers were so long but very
clean. His face was smooth and his eyes were as sharp as my cats.
He let go of the blanket and swayed for a
bit. Stepping out of its way, he stands by the steps of the clothesline stand.
I’m wondering if he is scared of me. I was scared of him.
Leaning against the stand, he sniffs the
blankets in the basket. His nose twitches.
Suddenly his cat eyes, as gold as the
sunset. Flashes at me. I hold my breath. His straight golden brown autumn mixed
hair falls across his cheek he grins at me. I was waiting for him to say
something. What would he sound like? Would he know English? That was so silly.
He makes a small sound and hops up on the
stand as quick as cat and pulls in the last blanket and lays it neatly on top
of the others. He breathes in the fresh autumn air and leaps down.
With a wink he saunters off into the bush.
It is getting very dark now. I clutch my chest for moment and then go and
quickly pick up the basket of blankets. I quickly got inside the house where I
felt safe.
As I was putting away the blankets, tucked
inside was a large dried oak leaf. It was the color of red and gold. I twirled
it around with my fingers. I sighed. I wondered if I would see him again.
I tucked the oak leaf inside my
journal.
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