Flash fiction: Have you noticed?

While I was proofing my newsletter last week, some phrases caught my eye. It seemed as though they could be the beginnings of stories. So I decided to grab a couple of them to work into a short piece. I lifted "Have you noticed?" and "Often they come in groups" from the newsletter text.

Here's the result; it could be the prelude to a story. Where would you take this? If it ignites a story within you, I'd love for you to share it in a comment.

Have You Noticed?
By Laura McHale Holland

Often they come in groups, skittering through yards in the wee hours. They climb—light, swift, translucent—over redwood fences, down terraced slopes, up stucco walls.

They hover in cypress trees, swing from maples and oaks. Peeking through our windows, they watch us turn out the reading lights, roll over in bed.

They long to feel the weight of gravity pull them down to the ground, to feel the thrill of lips locked in love one last time. Have you noticed? Do you sense them now? The ones who are waiting, caught in between, the ones who watch us breathe.

Photo by Kristel Jax