short stories – Christina Lynn Lambert

There’s always a little bit of magic, even in the most ordinary things. In my flash fiction story, The Forests After Fire, a song, along with some help from the universe, brings two strangers together.

#shortstory #romantasy #romance #seasons #lovestory #flashfiction #healingafterheartbreak

The Forests After Fire

The weather was still warm enough for one last weekend at the ocean when Caletta’s world fell apart. Well, not her whole world, just enough of it to ruin her weekend getaway and take half the stuff in her house. He left a huge mess in his wake and Caletta was too tired to clean. She had to duck underneath all the questions that hung in the doorway. Numb habits— a gift from a universe that understood that healing isn’t instantaneous, like striking a match or pouring water over a fire.

Trees and people take time, and by the time the autopilot light burnt out and woke Caletta from her sleep-walking life-dance, the leaves had changed colors. The trash can full of microwave dinner containers was full and she found herself craving something cooked on the stove. She soaked chicken thighs in butter and seasoned them with parmesan, crushed red peppers, and oregano. Spicy and savory. How long had it been since she’d been able to cook with red pepper flakes? He had hated spicy foods. Dinner tasted so good she cried at the tragedy of eating it alone. Then she cried harder at how the pitiful sound echoed through her half empty house.

The memories and the emptiness burned. Her tears burned too, long into the night. By morning, her tears tasted like the ocean and she wrapped herself inside her blankets to shake off the cold. Things were fine while she took a shower and got dressed. Her playlist begged her to sing, not quietly like she used to, but at top volume, until the lyrics were an anthem. She was happy for a few minutes, but then, the walls made her mad.

Every room in the house was some shade of beige. He’d convinced her that the bland tone would go with everything. Then, he’d made sure everything went with the beige, no contrasts, no vivid splashes of brightness— including her. Somewhere along the way, she’d learned to keep everything on mute, including her thoughts and ideas, because only soft, gentle things got space and love, at least with him. No more. Time to paint the walls.

Caletta dug around the boxes in the back of her closet and found her purple jacket, frayed jeans, and multicolor Doc Martens. Dressed like the Caletta that had been forced into hibernation for stupid reasons, she went to Best Mart. On the way to the paint aisle, she spotted the clearance section for Halloween stuff. Damn, I missed my favorite holiday! She’d missed that time of year when the veil was weak and two different worlds walked together, for those who wished to see. After Halloween, the magic was softer, quieter. But the veil that she felt open every Halloween wasn’t the only veil, nor the only kind of magic that wound through what seemed like ordinary days.

She found a bracelet of tiny silver skulls that jingled and a necklace of red leaves and alternating white beads that gleamed like little snowflakes. The necklace didn’t seem to be in the right place. She checked the price tag. Definitely not on sale. She put the necklace in her basket along with the bracelet, anyway. As she walked down to the paint aisle, she heard a song she couldn’t place but found she couldn’t turn in the direction of the sound. She didn’t feel… ready to hear the whole song. She shook off the strange feeling and picked out paint colors that would make her house feel alive again.

Matteo heard a soulful song playing through static. He wished Best Mart would fix their speakers because the music was… he didn’t know what it was. He needed to hear more of the saxophone notes and the singer’s powerful voice, but the sound faded out completely. He went on about the chore of stocking up on groceries and finding everything on his list for repairing the damage she’d done to the house when she’d left. Ordinary chores and an ordinary day mixed with memories and pain, and questions he’d never have answers to, but that song stayed on his mind. Songs were for hope while the forests healed.

On a night so hot, his ancient air conditioner gasped and tapped out, Matteo dreamed of red leaves blowing in the wind, of snow falling, and soft bells jingling. He heard the song again and found himself on a path of oak trees, lit by fairy lights. Something purple caught his eye, just a flash, then gone before his dream-self could get a better glimpse. When he woke to a broken air conditioner, he opened his bedroom windows and memories slipped out. Fireflies ate the worst parts and lit them up inside their bellies, one last, bright, awful time, then flew off into the night.

That November, the red leaf wind blew quickly into the first snow. The Autumn Festival of Lights in Great Oaks, Virginia began at sunset and Matteo, though he was running late, still managed to snag a good parking spot. He texted his friends that he would meet them soon at the arena for the outdoor concert. Strings of colorful fairy lights lit up the trees at the entrance to the festival. The sound of something softly jingling caught his attention.

A woman in a purple coat crossed his path. Her brown hair and lovely green eyes stole his breath and his words. He could have sworn that he’d seen her before. Somewhere. But he couldn’t find the words to ask. In the distance, he heard the band introduce themselves and their first song began.

“That song!” she said. “I’ve been dreaming of that song for over a year but I couldn’t remember more than a few notes.”

Matteo nodded. “I’ve been hearing it, too.”

They found a seat together and listened to the band play. The snow fell on the concert and the universe wove her magic through the forest and trees, and into the two people who were ready to see.

I typically write paranormal romance novels with a ton of steam and suspense. Over the past couple of years, I have been writing poetry as well as dystopian, horror, and fantasy short stories. I am just beginning to get the hang of writing flash fiction. It’s been a challenge to condense an entire story into less than 1,500 words, but I feel like I’m starting to fall in love with writing flash fiction.

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When you’ve been under water for so long, coming up for air can feel strange. It takes some time for the senses to adjust to the sunlight. The reflection over the smooth surface looks different when we know what’s above the water and what’s below.

Alternate Dimension Days is a short love story about an alternate dimension that might contain the light and hope that tech product developer, Jenna Kalen, needs after swimming against the current for so long.

There must have been a hidden portal to an alternate dimension somewhere on Irongate Road that Jenna Kalen had been accidentally travelling through some mornings. The portal ate time and spit her into an alternate dimension where she ended up late even though she’d left on time. Logic dictated that the lateness could be explained by traffic and construction on the roadways, except there were almost always traffic issues or construction detours. She’d been working at Delgado Star Tech for five years and up until the previous month, though she’d constantly been busy as hell with barely time to come up for air, things had been alright.

The last few weeks had been different. Unpredictable. Some days, she was really productive and she and the other members of the research team made a ton of progress. Other days, she ended up at work, slightly late, even though she’d been so sure she was running on time, and things seemed uncomfortably weird all day. Also strange was, on what she’d begun calling “time warp days”, she never really remembered parking her car in the deck, just running to the elevator, trying not to trip and fall on her ass. Things usually devolved from there. Obviously, she needed a week-long nap, followed by a vacation, followed by more sleep but her boss had turned down her vacation request. He’d given promises of a promotion to the team who developed the highest profiting product but the vague chance of a promotion carrot didn’t get her revved up on time warp days.

On those days, everything and everyone around her felt like a song being played slightly off key, so close to being fine that the mystery part of the harmony that was missing made her angry. Everyone seemed uncanny and gave her a sticky, skin crawling feeling, except that one guy who worked in the software development department. His hair was dark as night and his eyes were deep, ocean blue. His muscular forearms were covered in tattoos that reminded her of… something, maybe a scene from a movie or a story she’d once loved. She’d only seen him twice but each time, he’d looked at her as if he knew her. He hadn’t spoken either time, just nodded.

Maybe he had fallen through an alternate dimension portal, too. Maybe he could see how, on time warp days, the windows were foggy and blurred the out sight of the apple trees lining the street and hid the sunshine outside so that when evening came, the blur of darkness didn’t cut through any more of the windows than the sunlight had. Maybe he was sick of practically living in the Delgado Star building the way she was on time warp days. More likely, though, she probably reminded him of someone he used to know.

By the time her stomach started growling, Jenna decided she needed a break from working on the latest project. Her teammates objected heavily at the idea of stopping for lunch but she’d had enough— enough of racking her brain to help create products that she didn’t care about, enough of listening to her three teammates pick apart each other’s ideas without a scrap of empathy for one another, enough of their arrogant voices, and enough of the whole damn building.

The sexy, tattooed guy with the coal black hair stepped into the elevator with her.

“Hey, Jenna. It’s been a long time.”

The sound of his voice, smooth and deep, wasn’t the slightest bit off key, not the way everyone and everything sounded to her on alternate dimension days, but “Do I know you?”

“You used to. I stayed here for a while. Hoping you would find me again.”

Ah, hell. Was he an illusion? Was she so tired and off-center that she was imaging actual people? He took her hand. The man definitely felt solid and real. And… familiar.

When the doors opened, the sun hit just right, lighting up the world outside. She stepped outside into the light and broke the surface. The portal dissolved and the man with ocean-colored eyes asked if she was ready to leave.

She held tight to his hand and they swam to the shore.