A New Story Most Thursdays
Hello Friends and Neighbors, and welcome to Thursday Stories. Looking back over my herd of short stories, I realize that more than three dozen of the little rascals have appeared only in print. Some of you may have forked over the dough for this or that literary review, but I don’t expect everyone to buy all of the reviews all of the time. And so, drumroll please, I give you Thursday Stories. I’m not guaranteeing a new story every Thursday, but I will do my best until all the print-only tales have been set free.
Heart’s Double Labyrinth first appeared in Havik Fiction, published in 2022. This microfiction also found a spot as a performance reading at Flash Fiction Forum. My sincere thanks to both of these organizations. Without further ado, here’s the story. I hope you enjoy it.
Thursday Stories: Heart’s Double Labyrinth
by Marco Etheridge
The narrow passages between my shop and your terrace are a stone maze baking under the midday sun. The air is a weave of shimmering dust intertwined with shafts of sunlight.
I shutter my shaded cubicle and enter the labyrinth, a twine-bound package held before me. My kurta is clean, and my hair combed. These hands bearing your parcel are scrubbed, fingernails cleaned and pared.
Without thought, I retrace the path to your door. My heart’s compass guides my feet down unmarked passages and around oblique turnings. I know the way, as my blood knows the skein of my body’s veins and arteries. And yet, even in the knowing, my mind etches a map into my memory, an identical tracing many layers deep.
Then I am standing at your doorway, and you are there. Only formalities and the package are exchanged. As you take the parcel, my fingertips do not brush your hennaed hands. Our eyes do not linger. Turning away from you, I do not look back. You do not wave farewell.
Night alters everything.
My footsteps are drawn to your door, passing through a dreamscape of shadow overlaid with darkness. The path to your heart is a labyrinth, and my desire the compass.
I seek you or your love calls to me. Your hand sets the moon spinning above the sea, and the tide pulls me. I am a stalking tiger, hunting you. Celestial gravity, animal hunger, love; does it matter which is the truth?
At my feet, the sweet rot of garbage. Above my head, the fragrance of wall-climbing bougainvillea and draped hibiscus. I ignore both putrescence and perfume. As a moth called to a single blossom, I search only for you.
Then I am on your terrace. You step from your doorway. Our limbs intertwine under the night jasmine, under the celestial glow. Your hands weave the air before my eyes, hennaed tracery turned to moonstone.
We are become one, candle and moth, wick and flame. You pull, I push. Our dance carries us over your threshold. The door closes, sealing us together and within.
Fini
You can find Havik Fiction here:
https://laspositascollege.edu/havik/index.php
And the good folks at Flash Fiction Forum are here:
https://flashfictionforum.com/
That’s it for this week’s edition of Thursday Stories. More stories are coming your way. How will you know when a new story breaks? Glad you asked, Friends. Read On! Drumroll and… Meanwhile, don’t miss any upcoming stories. You can stay tuned for all the latest by following the MEF blog:
https://www.marcoetheridgefiction.com/whats-new-in-marcos-world-the-blog/
And finally, with your indulgence, allow me a blatant book plug. A lovely concept: Artists being paid for their work. And, yes, even writers need to eat. Heart’s Double Labyrinth is included in my flash collection Broken Luggage. If you enjoyed this story, please consider buying a book. Thank you!
Broken Luggage Collected Flash Fiction
Broken Luggage: Two dozen flash fiction tales of love lost and love found, of darkness at the end of life, and light at the beginning.
A man's life condensed into the broken luggage that will contain it. A young woman alone in the Sonoran Desert. Memories of dangerous eggs, thunderstorms, and a gunshot man. A character tours his self-made hell. Another steps from between the pages. Parables of sand and migration A labyrinth into new love, and the remembrance of love past. These two dozen flash stories tell swift tales of love lost and love found, of darkness at the end of life, and light at the beginning.
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