Migration (Jane Doe Flash Fiction)

Each week, Charli Mills at Carrot Ranch hosts a flash fiction challenge. The February 23 cue: In 99 words (no more, no less) write about a migration.

Jane snaps the gate latch shut and unsnaps Troubles’ leash. She’s making her way toward the back door, picking her way automatically around weeds and old bricks before she notices in the dim moonlight.

The weeds and bricks aren’t there.

Her fingers are shaking as she turns on her phone’s flashlight, casting a circle of light around her while Troubles sniffs around the door.

Clean.

The rhododendron trunks are cleared of blown-in trash, the old bricks and broken furniture have been cleared out. In the bright wash of phone light, the brown grass even looks raked.

Oh, God, no.

jill-j-jenkins-pixabay
Jill J Jenkins/Pixabay

This flash is a vignette from The Life and Times of Jane Doe. Other fun flashes can be found at the link above.

Author: Deborah Lee

I like trees, dreaming, magic, books, paper, floating, dreaming, rhinos, rocks, stargazing, wine, dragonflies, trains, and silence to hear the world breathe.

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