Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner: Poisoned


We were within a mile-and-a-half of the service roads when we found him. How could I miss with the vultures circling the sky? “Oh my god,” I gasped and rushed to his side, “Jason?” I yanked the stake from his chest and tossed it as far as I could throw. I could sense the park ranger’s amazement of my strength as I knelt and held him in my arms. “It’ll be okay,” I said to myself as his wound quickly closed. The stake had merely graced his heart. He’ll live. “Give me a blanket.” I demanded.

Quickly, with shaking hands, the ranger handed me a thick blanket and I wrapped it around Jason’s half-naked body. A moment later, he gasped and glanced at me. “Piper, you’re here.” He said weakly.

A tear leaked from the corner of my eyes, “Yes I am.” I sobbed. “I love you.” From my backpack, I pulled out a thermos and held it to his lips. “Drink.” He shook his head. I pressed harder. “Drink!”

“It’s no use, Piper. The stake was poisoned. I was going to die either way but at least this way, I get to die in your arms. I love you.” Slowly, he shut his eyes.

“Jason?” I cried. “Jason! Come back to me!”

(200 words)

This is a response for Roger Shipp’s new flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner. We are given the beginning of the sentence and we are to finish the story. 

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