Silent Reading

by | |
The bells of St. Brigit’s are calling tonight as he makes his way to the cozy tavern tucked between stone buildings. He opens the door to silence broken by the soft rustle of pages being turned and the occasional tap of glass on aged wood.  

He sees her. Her face carries a gentle smile as she reads and sips her drink. A lock of burnished hair brushes cheeks rosy from the fire snapping nearby. He sits, spying Fitzgerald in her hands. His face falls; he brought Bronte. He opens his book and reads, stealing glances at the stranger who silently calls him from his empty home every week.

This was a piece of flash fiction inspired by this week's Write on Edge Prompt that challenged us to write a story in 108 words with the first eight given to us. I have to admit, I'm not usually a fan of flash fiction. I'm far too wordy. But this time, with peer pressure, I tried and have to admit, it was fun.


jessica [Reply]

I've missed your writing. You always stir up such vivid images.

Roxanne Piskel [Reply]

I'm far too wordy when it comes to flash fiction as well. But I think you did a brilliant job here.


Interesting pub -- where one can sit and drink and read in peace by a fire! Address, please :)

Angela Amman

You've described the perfect place (and two favorite authors.) Swoon.


Awww, go over and talk to her, man....

Angie Kinghorn

"His face falls; he brought Bronte."

Love this! How did you do this in 100 words?!?

Thomas Marlowe

Aww - I feel for him, poor fellow


Maybe one day he'll gather his courage. I'd like to think he will...


I'm imagining a man trying so hard to gather his nerve to talk to the woman of his dreams and hoping they'll at least share a book...


It's "silent" reading night. ;)


I want to go and read myself.


It was inspired by an article I read about a Seattle pub that does it once a month. Can you imagine?? Heaven!


I don't typically try. My verbosity betrays me. BUT I had fun with this one.


Thank you. I've missed writing here. The big story keeps calling. :)

Rachael Pettus

Sounds like a great idea! Thanks for stopping by and commenting on mine :) The image that you liked, 'hang your cloak on a moonbeam' comes from a story of St Bridgit, one of the 3 patron Sts of ireland. Like her pagan predecessor, the goddess Bride, Bridgit is associated with the sun and fire. According to legend, she would enter a room and hang her cloak on a sunbeam. Since this prompt had to take place at night, there had to be a transition ;)

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