The Chase

Hello, everyone! Back so soon?

Like I mentioned in my last post, I wrote a few short pieces this Summer, and I would like to post them here. However, I am only going to post one per week in September (and if I continue writing short things in addition to the big projects, this will continue past September).

I would like to start with a flash fiction story called "The Chase" that I wrote one day in June, if I remember correctly. I just remember an image of a young woman walking out of a shop with a sunflower appearing in my head, and when I started writing it, this story came out with it.

As always, feedback is appreciated. Enjoy!

lovelovelove

Adam

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The Chase

He saw her for the first time as she was coming out of a flower shop holding a single sunflower. Her sundress, a navy blue, floated ethereal under the light lift of the breeze, and her hair, the same shade as the center of the flower, followed the lead of the cloth. He could not see her face; there was a smudge on the window.

The desire to follow her, to introduce himself and perhaps spark some sort of something, was gravitational. They were on the outskirts of the city, straddling the blurred line between the industrial fields of buildings and the natural metropolis of cornstalks, but she was looking toward the skyscrapers. He dropped the last two bites of his sandwich and left a tip, feeling the force of the summer heat before hearing the diner door slam shut behind him. By this time, she was already heading toward downtown, a ray of light darting for dark.

He walked quickly, wondering how she could have gotten so far ahead of him in so little time. As he weaved between businessmen, the air became heavier; it was as though the heart of the city toward which he was headed was a heat source in itself. Each step summoned more sweat. However, the woman flowed through the crowd with ease, dripping down the sidewalk that scorched him so.

When she reached the apartment steps, he felt shade-like relief, knowing the chase had finally ceased. He placed his foot on the first step. Her back was to him.

“Hey, I—“

He touched her shoulder, the navy cloth hot on his fingers. She turned; his heart blazed bright in scalding anticipation.

But her eyes were cool pools of blue. Her skin washed smoothly over her face. Her smile was a splash of seaspray. She was raindrop frail and yet storm strong.

His entire being was extinguished.

“Oh, sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

She smiled, nodded, and continued up the complex steps, giving him a small wave and saying nothing.

He hailed a taxi and climbed into the filthy yellow machine. The sludge-spotted sunray sped toward the fields, out of the city. A smudge on the window kept the sun out of his eyes as it set over the corn stalks.