I'm participating in Rachael Harrie's First Campaigner Challenge. Basically the challenge is to write a 200-word flash fiction that begins with "Shadows crept across the wall." The contest is open until Feb. 24, so head over to her blog to check it out.
Here's my submission:
Shadows crept along the wall. The setting sun turned them into grotesque misrepresentations of the man and woman at the table, warped in the dying orange light.
“There’s nothing you can do,” she said, her voice low, sharp, the silence cracking around it.
“So you said.” He wasn’t trying to be sarcastic.
She bristled anyway. “It’s too late now. You can’t change me.”
“You didn’t even give me the chance to try.” That wasn’t what he’d meant to say.
“What would you do?” she snapped, shoving the chair back. She began to pace. He watched with feigned disinterest.
“I have my own magic,” he began.
Her snort cut him off. “White magic. What could you possibly do against this?”
He muscles went tight at her derision. Suddenly he was in front of her. He didn’t remember moving.
He kissed her, hard and hungry, and she clung to him, drowning in it. “Let me try,” he said hoarsely when they were again apart.
For a second, her eyes were wet with trust. Then she took a breath, rebuilt her defenses, and said, “There’s nothing you can do. I’m sorry.”
She left the room, and his shadow danced on the wall alone.