Wednesday, July 13, 2011


By Richard Cody

I came home from work to a dark and quiet house, the front door standing sinister and slightly ajar. With a curious and creeping sense of déjà vu, I entered. Inside, shadows crept over the walls.

“Lisa. . .” my voice echoed through quiet rooms. “Lisa, are you here?”

She moved slow and furtive from swirling shadows, nothing but a vague shape in the murk before my eyes. I groped blindly for the light switch, nervous apprehension thickening my fingers as I fumbled and felt and finally flicked it on, bathing the room in electric light. Shadows fled like roaches into corners and there was Lisa.

She stood silent and still before me, pale blue eyes staring at some vacancy in the middle distance, slender arms hanging limp at her sides. It was then I saw the knife clenched tightly in the curled fist of her right hand, a smooth expanse of silver blade reflecting white light with flashing brilliance. She held it firm and deliberate, knuckles white with the pressure of her grip. I noticed the small scar on the back of her delicate hand, white and jagged even against the ghostly pale of her flesh. In a vivid flash I remembered the previous summer at the lake when she’d cut herself on a broken bottle.

“Lisa,” I ventured cautiously, “give me the knife.”

She remained still, painfully quiet.

“Lisa,” I began again, “give me the knife.”

She moved toward me slow and shambling, her feet dragging over the floor. Then she stopped.

“Lisa,” I commanded, “give me the knife.”

An anxious moment passed, the two of us standing there, waiting. Finally she moved forward . . and gave me the knife.

Copyright ©2011 Richard Cody. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce in any form, including electronic, without the author’s express permission.


If you like this story, check out Richard’s other story, published on this site: Alice



Richard Cody is a native Californian and a writer of poetry and fiction. His work has appeared in many print and virtual publications, most recently Red Fez, Eclectic Flash and a handful of stones. Look for his books, The Jewel in the Moment, This is Not My Heart and Darker Corners at Amazon and his Lulu page.


  1. Great flash! I was wondering what was going to happen right up to the last sentence.

  2. Thanks for reading Mama Zen! Glad you like!

  3. And thank you for reading too, li!

  4. Nice! Well, not for the dude. : )

  5. Thanks to all for reading! And to Steve for running a great site!