The Killing Frosts – Friday Fictioneers – Flash Fiction

I haven’t posted anything here in a few weeks!  I have been writing, but not nearly as much as I’d like!  I’ve been feeling really tired and worn down, and I’ve been putting the energy I’ve got into my other job, for the most part.  It feels good to get back to this!  Meeting with my writers group this week really helped!  Their blogs are on the right, and well worth a look (The Haunted Pen, The Enchanted Notebook, and Dianne’s Place).  This story was written for the Friday Fictioneers prompt, put out each week by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog.  Click on the blue InLinkz frog below to read other stories written for this prompt or to add your own!

Copyright Sandra Crook

Copyright Sandra Crook

The Killing Frosts

(100 words)

Morning dawned, and Yvette opened the door, looking into the yard.  The killing frosts were beautiful.  It didn’t seem fair.  They never knew when one was coming.  Even at summer’s peak, the deadly ice came.

Some said it was witches, blighting the earth to please the Devil.  Some said the land belonged to strange creatures using cold as a weapon to reclaim it.  Others thought God sent the frosts as punishment for their sins.

Yvette’s husband was meant to arrive home this morning.  As she stepped on silver grass, it crunched under her feet.  The tears froze on her face.

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20 thoughts on “The Killing Frosts – Friday Fictioneers – Flash Fiction

  1. The line “The killing frosts were beautiful” stood out for me – the contrast of deadly and beautiful, it made me think. I also like all the superstitions people have made up to explain the frost.
    I’m wondering if she just doesn’t want her husband to come home, or maybe he’s out there frozen to death so close to home.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Very spooky sad stuff. Must have happened in the past that people expected home on foot were caught by the weather. Your tale gloriously exaggerates reality. (Quite a few fairy tales/folk tales this week in different styles. I can’t get enough!)

    Liked by 1 person

      • My son gave me Neil Gaiman’s the Sleeper and the Spindle for my birthday. (Actually he phoned me from college and told me where the gift card his Aunt had given him was in his room and I walked to the bookshop and bought it myself – but, hey, it’s the thought that counts!) Nice blend of the traditional and the subversive.

        Like

  3. Wow, this story reminded me of Snow Queen (in its more creepy less Frozen-esque tellings.) There is such a profound emotional hit in that final sentence, in that breaking of glass, with this vague hint that whatever happened, she feels like it was (maybe) her fault. It says so much in such little space.

    Like

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