“Who are you?” Emily whispered. They were walking. She didn’t see the city as it passed. She tried to listen to the lady’s silence. She wanted to catch it before it fell into the city quiet. Streets drifted by. Soon, the palace towered above them in stone heights. They went inside. They wandered through halls of gold and velvet. Marble gleam mingled with the lady’s hush. Emily’s hand was still in her chill grasp. Emily didn’t wonder where the Queen and her family and servants had gone. She felt her words calming. The palace unfolded in grandeur and silence. They sat on silks. Emily felt the lady’s cool hands in her hair. Her words had stopped scratching inside her and pushing to be out. Their jagged shapes were smooth. She rested in the lady’s arms.
By the lady’s side, Emily’s days floated past. She dwelled among jewel glint and candle shadows. Her heart was full of the lady’s silence. The words inside her were stilled. They stood together at the windows, but Emily didn’t see the bodies in the streets below. When the lady ventured from the palace, Emily wrapped herself in silks and waited for her return.
Rebecca Harrison sneezes like Donald Duck and can be summoned by a cake signal in the sky. Her best friend is a dog who can count. She’s been nominated for Best of the Net, and was a finalist in the first Wyvern Lit flash fiction contest. Her stories can also be read at Pigeonholes Magazine, Maudlin House, Luna Station Quarterly, and elsewhere.