Posted in flash fiction

Chicken Little

Sia tapped an unsuspecting puddle with her toe. Startled it rippled away, gently distorting the realities reflected on its surface.

The ripples transformed her brother, straining to peer into the dark general store, to a boy scavenging after Christmas. Barren trees became crumbling sticks, not even good for fire.

The sky was falling.

“Something’s wrong.”

Marta’s back spasmed and her lungs burned as she coughed. Thin strings of blood stretched from her lips to the palm of her hand.

Only her son caught sight of the panic in Marta’s eyes.

“Nothing’s wrong Sia. Stop daydreaming and come on.”


Word Count: 98
For Friday Fictioneers courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff Fields. Thank you as always.


Letters from inside my head

24 thoughts on “Chicken Little

  1. This is descriptively written, and rather enigmatic. It would be possible to write off Sia’s thoughts as those of someone always seeing disaster – the Chicken Little of the title who expects the sky to fall in – except that Sia’s brother saw panic in Marta’s eyes. Perhaps you are contrasting a real emergency where Marta should be obtaining medical help with Sia’s imagined disasters?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think that’s part of the mystery here. We don’t know whether or not Sia’s brother also saw the blood in Marta’s hand or only the panic in her eyes. Maybe he believes Marta is just worried that Sia’s over active imagination will get the best of her. Of course, what if Sia isn’t imagining? Thanks for reading Penny


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