Flash Fiction Friday

I’ve seen some people around doing these and I think they’re awesome – only I don’t post on Fridays. So, we are now having Flash Fiction Thursday, and if any of y’all can think of a better name, I shall herald your brilliance far and wide.
This one is called “10:50” and is both flash fiction and creative nonfiction.
10:50 – the haunted time of night. I was new to the realm of medications and toileting; my scrubs still had creases in them. One night, I came around a corner to a spectre, staring out at the darkened city.
“What are you looking at?” I asked.
“Can’t you see them? They’re dancing,” she whispered, as if streetlights were holy things.
But this isn’t what I wish to forget.
I wish to leave behind the night a radio call came.
“127 passed. They’ll be here in 15 minutes.”
No living ghosts greeted me or saw things beyond as I waited in the lobby, but that mattered little this time.
They showed up around 10:30, classically mortician in their pallor and black suits: one male, jacketed, one female in a skirt. When I buzzed them in, the air felt colder.
It was 10:50 when the elevator chimed their return. As they came up the ramp, I spied a purple velvet bundle, jostling with each bump. I shuddered.
I buzzed them out as swiftly as possible, and have fought ever since to erase the memory of 127’s lifeless body, shrouded, bouncing through glass doors into night.
One thing, though. Death is natural and I faced many more. That’s not what I long to forget. I wish to eradicate the memory of 127 because I was afraid. And instead of facing my first death boldly, honoring a life, I shrank back.
That is what I do not wish to remember any longer.


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