Meg Sefton's Blog, page 46

Inktober: Note

[image error] Fragments by Kit, flickr

It has returned, she had written in her suicide note of the cancer she instinctively felt. I feel pain all over. She had told her sister that because of the expense and emotions stirred by chemo’s toxic load, she wouldn’t go through it again. The autopsy revealed no cancer.

Inktober: Divided

[image error] KKK A railing in Stockholm by Gavin Clarke, flickr

One night at the beach, I saw Mom circling a burning cross with a huge group of people. They wore sheets. She wore no hood. Seeing me, she turned and stared. I tasted metal. I felt blood rush up to my head. That was our farewell. They say she died.

Inktober: Orlando

[image error] Palm by VanessaC (EY), flickr

At the swank Orlando hotel on Halloween, the costumed guests receive a warm jazz piano greeting compliments of Leonard. While his fingers glide along the keys, he slips from his body to caress skin, listen to hearts, learn buried histories. They slip him bills. He sews his dark, secret seeds.

Inktober: Dread

[image error] Dark and Dangerous by Teresa Williams, flickr

I babysat for Halloween last year. The children’s candy pumpkins tasted like real pumpkin flesh. A trick or treater looked like my dead sister. The dolls in the children’s dollhouse walked around as I read the children bedtime stories. No one noticed these things but me. I dread this year.

Inktober: Kaibosh

[image error] Paris on Ponce & Le Maison Rouge, flickr

Cara had been shopping for the perfect funeral dress to help her appear innocent of her hunger for what was sure to be her inheritance: Something young, girlish. Yet when Cara died first, her mother brought the dress to the mortician to clothe her body. Everyone said she looked angelic.

Inktober: Wolf

[image error] I’m not scared by Cazadora de Fotos, no known copyright restrictions, flickr

If you knew a wolf, would you let him kiss you? If you knew a wolf, would you believe his words? If you knew a wolf, would you introduce him to Granny? If you knew a wolf, would you let him tie your hands? What if he asks you nicely?

Inktober: Clock

[image error] 20130116 Time by Kim Brookes, flickr

I have a grandmother clock passed down from an ancestor who presided over the Salem witch trials. On Halloween, the clock runs backward, the glass cover refuses closure, the chimes clash and clang. After a harrowing night, I call the clock repair person first thing. He never finds anything wrong.

Inktober: Blood

[image error] Beaming with the Light of Millions of Suns, NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center, flickr

I found an ad for a tiny incinerator for burning diabetic test strips. “Blood- proof your house,” it said, “don’t leave yourself vulnerable to vampires.” I laughed. Yet I woke this morning feeling drained, faint. I was white as marble. On my neck, I had two purple bruises, burnt stars

Inktober: Cemetery

[image error] Penny’s Angel by Kelley Boone, flickr

The ghost children or “Comforters” as we are known have nighttime meetings in cemeteries. We speak of our histories, how we became dead from caretaker violence and neglect. We speak of newly dead babies we will comfort. We make plans to bring about justice for the Realm.

Inktober: Binge

[image error] Shattered by Julia Joppien, unsplash

Luisa couldn’t stop watching true crime shows. It took her away from her worries, her finances and health problems. When her family stopped hearing from her, the police busted into her apartment. They found her body in a pool of blood but were unable to determine cause of death.