This week has been one of the longest in my life. I have read so much. From a Ph.D. dissertation I needed to read in order to help a fellow student prepare for his defense of the dissertation, to articles for my own Ph.D., and my own article I need to send in on Monday - oh, and all the work I am reading in preparation for the classes I need to give next year. To say the least, my academic brain is fried. So I thought: Why not write a short horror story inspired by a series of photographs I took a while ago? Some creative writing would surely get my brain to rest a bit. So without further ado, please enjoy this horror short story!
She swallowed the last of the purple tonic water. The computer screen went dark. She walked out of the empty and now dark office building.
Her car was parked close by. She never felt safe working until this late at night. But sometimes the work required it. It was the end of the year, deadlines did not care. She needed to finish the work. But it was after 12 and she was making more mistakes than needed.
The highway was empty. Flickering lights that needed to be changed illuminated the way to her home a couple of miles away from her workplace. She could taste the gin and purple tonic at home. She could not drink at the workplace, only the tonic water sufficed. But now she needed the alcohol to calm down after the long day. She needed to clear her mind.
The garage door opened and closed; mechanistic like every night.
She poured more gin than usual. Less tonic. Purple. She took a deep breath and sat down in front of the TV that did not play anything of worth. The sound was off. She could not take the sound but the flickering images soother her occupied mind. The alcohol rushed through her body and made her feel like a cloud, she tasted the purple flower infused into the purple drink.
She finished the drink too quickly. Her thirst for another one took over.
The kitchen was dark except for a single yellow light. The darkened kitchen soothed her troubled soul. The drink also helped. Her hand was heavy, again, and the purple color was diluted. She took the glass and stood by the window looking over the backyard.
She sighed. But rather than feeling better, she felt a mild sense of curiosity as something was in her mouth. A purple petal.
She walked to the light in the kitchen and looked at the purple petal in the palm of her hand. She looked at the glass of purple gin and tonic but there was nothing in it except the ice cubes. She poured the drink down the sink and inspected the glass again.
The flickering TV illuminated the room. An eerie silence fell over her. The previous lightness now replaced by a strange groundedness. The earth sucked her in, she felt something pull. She walked past the TV without turning it off.
Her bedroom was dark. She switched on the light. Something was in her mouth again. More petals.
The bathroom mirror filled the entire wall. She stood there with her mouth open. Purple flowers started to fall out of her mouth. She could not move. She just stared at herself. The purple flowers fell and did not stop.
Then she could not breathe. Something got stuck in her throat. She tried to cough but nothing happened. Only more flowers fell from her mouth as she grabbed the bathroom counter. The same purple taste of her tonic water filled her mouth.
Her eyes closed as she could not breathe anymore.
The bathroom floor was flooded. As she fell to the ground she managed to open a tap. The purple flowers floated around her now lifeless body. A sanctuary.
The water turned a beautiful purple color. Someone opened the bathroom door and started to collect the water.
Postscriptum, or The End
I hope you enjoyed the story. It was a short one and it did not turn out like I thought it would. I mean, does any artwork ever end where you wanted it to end? The creative process is always messy. The photographs are my own, taken with my Nikon D300. The story is also my own twisted mind's creation. I hope you are well. Happy writing!