Missing Piece
The third installment of my flash novella.
Missing Piece
Upon his arrival, Sam was greeted with something that neither shocked nor awed him: An empty house. As he opened the front door, a blast of heat hit him. He grimaced, shrugged his duffel bag over his shoulder and jerked his suitcase over the step as he walked into the front room. The wheels on the suitcase echoed as they ran over the hard wood floors. Sam sat his suitcase upright and dropped his duffel bag, with a loud sigh, and worked his way toward the refrigerator. There he gladly stuck his head inside and stood for several minutes before realizing how empty the refrigerator was. Aside from a few containers filled with left-overs, an expired gallon of milk, and some sauces in the door, the refrigerator was empty. Sam sighed again, reaching for one of the containers of left-overs, but immediately put it back and shut the door upon smelling it.
Giving up on the idea of food, he walked to the thermostat - currently reading at 85 degrees, higher than the temperature outside. His father, though usually too caught up in his won world to take notice of anything else, was always careful about the electricity, especially when he wasn't going to be in the house for long. This baffled Sam, but instead of dwelling on it more than he already had, Sam set the house to cool to 70 degrees.
Grabbing his suitcase and duffel bag, Sam turned down a hallway to his room. He began unpacking, slowly, thinking about the summer ahead of him. About an hour had passed before he heard the front door open, followed by a bitten off swear, and footsteps trudging heavily toward his room. Sam braced himself for a scolding about the air conditioning, but instead was greeted with a look of remorse on his father's face.
'I forgot you were coming today, but I've got a mountain of paperwork to get done tonight,' Sam's dad said, poking his head into the room. He hadn't even bothered to take his jacket off. With a half smile and a short wave, he disappeared down the hall. Sam stared after him, only slightly disappointed, as this had always been a regular occurrence. It was only half past eight.
When the light first shifted, Sam felt my heart stop. It was as though the luminosity from every corner of the room suddenly drew together, centering but feet from him. Slowly, as the corners of the room grew darker, the glimmering white before him began to take shape. The figure that hovered before Sam now bore an uncanny resemblance to something human, something familiar. In some areas the light bent to allow for shadows, creating the effect of hair, flowing as if suspended in water, and eyes, and a mouth. The glow was almost blinding, and Sam began to shield his face, but at that moment the figure opened what seemed to be it's mouth.
What happened next is difficult to explain. No sound emanated from the being, but yet Sam distinctly heard a voice. It was not human. It was almost as though the light had become music, and that music wound it's way into something coherent. But amongst those notes that now filled his head, there was something distinct, something Sam had heard before. Just as the sound, and light, began to fade, a memory flashed before his eyes. In the instance before the figure disappeared Sam distinctly saw his mother's face, just as she had looked before she disappeared when he was a child. And then she was gone.
'One more thing before I forget,' Sam's dad's voice startled him. He was still in his jacket, briefcase clutched in his right hand as he gripped the frame of the door, leaning in the opposite direction from where he had just left. 'We have clients flying in from out-of-country, so I'll have to commute into the city tomorrow. I'm afraid I'll be gone before breakfast. I'm sure you understand,' he finished, pulling himself upright and once again heading down the hall, not waiting for an answer.
'Of course,' Sam muttered, still in shock.
Part 2: Beautiful Days
Full Length: Time (fits in this order)
Part 4: Hurry Up
Missing Piece
Upon his arrival, Sam was greeted with something that neither shocked nor awed him: An empty house. As he opened the front door, a blast of heat hit him. He grimaced, shrugged his duffel bag over his shoulder and jerked his suitcase over the step as he walked into the front room. The wheels on the suitcase echoed as they ran over the hard wood floors. Sam sat his suitcase upright and dropped his duffel bag, with a loud sigh, and worked his way toward the refrigerator. There he gladly stuck his head inside and stood for several minutes before realizing how empty the refrigerator was. Aside from a few containers filled with left-overs, an expired gallon of milk, and some sauces in the door, the refrigerator was empty. Sam sighed again, reaching for one of the containers of left-overs, but immediately put it back and shut the door upon smelling it.
Giving up on the idea of food, he walked to the thermostat - currently reading at 85 degrees, higher than the temperature outside. His father, though usually too caught up in his won world to take notice of anything else, was always careful about the electricity, especially when he wasn't going to be in the house for long. This baffled Sam, but instead of dwelling on it more than he already had, Sam set the house to cool to 70 degrees.
Grabbing his suitcase and duffel bag, Sam turned down a hallway to his room. He began unpacking, slowly, thinking about the summer ahead of him. About an hour had passed before he heard the front door open, followed by a bitten off swear, and footsteps trudging heavily toward his room. Sam braced himself for a scolding about the air conditioning, but instead was greeted with a look of remorse on his father's face.
'I forgot you were coming today, but I've got a mountain of paperwork to get done tonight,' Sam's dad said, poking his head into the room. He hadn't even bothered to take his jacket off. With a half smile and a short wave, he disappeared down the hall. Sam stared after him, only slightly disappointed, as this had always been a regular occurrence. It was only half past eight.
When the light first shifted, Sam felt my heart stop. It was as though the luminosity from every corner of the room suddenly drew together, centering but feet from him. Slowly, as the corners of the room grew darker, the glimmering white before him began to take shape. The figure that hovered before Sam now bore an uncanny resemblance to something human, something familiar. In some areas the light bent to allow for shadows, creating the effect of hair, flowing as if suspended in water, and eyes, and a mouth. The glow was almost blinding, and Sam began to shield his face, but at that moment the figure opened what seemed to be it's mouth.
What happened next is difficult to explain. No sound emanated from the being, but yet Sam distinctly heard a voice. It was not human. It was almost as though the light had become music, and that music wound it's way into something coherent. But amongst those notes that now filled his head, there was something distinct, something Sam had heard before. Just as the sound, and light, began to fade, a memory flashed before his eyes. In the instance before the figure disappeared Sam distinctly saw his mother's face, just as she had looked before she disappeared when he was a child. And then she was gone.
'One more thing before I forget,' Sam's dad's voice startled him. He was still in his jacket, briefcase clutched in his right hand as he gripped the frame of the door, leaning in the opposite direction from where he had just left. 'We have clients flying in from out-of-country, so I'll have to commute into the city tomorrow. I'm afraid I'll be gone before breakfast. I'm sure you understand,' he finished, pulling himself upright and once again heading down the hall, not waiting for an answer.
'Of course,' Sam muttered, still in shock.
Part 2: Beautiful Days
Full Length: Time (fits in this order)
Part 4: Hurry Up