Supernatural Fantasy and other Webserial Tales. Only after 19:14

Chapter 1

No Hope, No Fear

The sheet barely covered the body. It was lying face down and he stared at it for a while, trying to determine for how long it had been there considering the lividity of the head. Twenty minutes, maybe. Two hours at most. Then he realized that the man had no shirt and that he was also barefoot. Sometimes the wind lifted the sheet, letting him see the tattoo on his left forearm. Old, blurred and dim. A mermaid or some other sea monster shaped out of a woman.

There were no curious people on the street, no police, and no ambulance to take him away either. No one. He thought that the man was alone in death as perhaps he was in life, and that probably no one heard his last words, and that none of this mattered anymore. It was 13:07 of a June afternoon and on the sidewalk there was no one else but the dead man and him.

On the other side of the street the restaurant looked busy as on previous occasions. Through the window he saw the people eating there, feigning nonchalance while the waiters rushed in taking and serving the orders. The maître closely followed the movements of the employees, and with brief but firm nods he forced them to rush even more. That bustle was now alien to him. Preposterous. He was surprised to think so, but giving in to that feeling made him feel better and the pain from a few hours ago slowly faded away. He stayed outside, watching the trees and listening to the wind rubbing the leaves together.

He recalled the events of that morning. The clashes and the frustration of the previous months. He replayed the faces of every single one of his subordinates and discovered that he could not associate all of them with a name. And then he thought of his son.

He picked up the cell phone out of instinct when he felt the vibration on his pocket, but he stared at the screen for a few seconds before answering.

— Yes…

His secretary informed him that he was already twenty minutes late to the lunch meeting. She asked if any problems had arisen. She asked whether they should wait for him, if there was anything she could do. She asked him where he was.

— Mister Seagrave, are you all right?

He remained silent for a few seconds before saying that he thought so, that now he was fine indeed.

After hanging up and realizing that at some point he would get rid of the phone, he looked for the last time at the photographs that Penelope had sent him. Fifth anniversary. Two years had passed and now he could not relate the name of his son with a face. It was time to go home.

[to be continued...]

11 responses

  1. Somber reflection between the bustling life and quiet surrounding the man. Interesting opening.

    October 19, 2013 at 01:34

  2. Deanna Schrayer

    This is quite intriguing Feidor. I’d definitely like to know more.

    October 24, 2013 at 21:15

    • Thanks for leaving a comment Deanna. I’ll be posting more of this tomorrow, #FridayFlash

      October 24, 2013 at 22:45

  3. Pingback: Two-Zero-One-Four! | Feidor S. LaView

  4. A suspenseful opening… which at the same time asks me to suspend a fair bit of disbelief! I wish you much fulfillment and success in your writing endeavors. Thanks so much for your follow of Heart of Life Poetry.

    February 4, 2015 at 20:39

    • Thank you so much for your nice words and your visit, I appreciate it.

      February 6, 2015 at 20:59

  5. I love your writing style. It’s so concise and you strike the perfect balance, revealing enough to make me want to read more and yet setting a tone that is mysterious, cards held to the chest. Looking forward to this.

    May 24, 2015 at 20:56

    • Thanks for your message! Feedback is really, really welcomed.

      May 25, 2015 at 17:41

  6. Saw in the comments that you welcome feedback. So I don’t come of like a dick I like to frame my feedback as questions for what wasn’t clear for me.

    Do you use — instead of “…” because he’s on the phone here?
    ‘And then’ – conjunction sentence starter?
    ‘Fifth anniversary…’ – Wait, what was in the photograph?
    ‘…Two years had passed and now he could not relate the name of his son with a face. It was time to go home.’ – Jarring. How does the anniversary relate to his sons face and how does this relate to the time to go home? Is his son at home?

    Lol Mr. Seagrave 😄

    June 6, 2015 at 06:50

    • Hi Lazarinth!

      Thank you for your comment. Before addressing your questions let me say that anyone taking time to post feedback and comments deserves all my respect, so don’t worry about sounding like a dick, because you don’t.

      Quotation marks–> At first I considered writing the dialogues wihtout using any marks at all, but then I was afraid it would be difficult to read, so I used em dashes. I wrote a post about this:

      To tell you the truth I’m still not sure whether or not it was a wise decision, but all dialogues in seasons 1, 2 and 3 are done this way.

      And then–> Not the way you should start a sentence, I agree. Cormac McCarthy does this a lot, and in episodes 1 to 4 I sort of imitated him (again, probably not wise) but from the fifth episode onwards you’ll find less of this.

      Fifth anniversary…–> There is nothing weird in that picture, and this scene should connect with epsiode 8. Unfortunatelly it didn’t 😦 so when I turn this into an eBook I’ll have to double check for loose ends like this.

      Two years had passed…–> Jarring? 😀 yes, I have to admit it is. As you probably know ‘Seagrave’s Journey’ is a collection of flash fictions that turned into a serial. Not an excuse, because this is not the best opening scene for a serial. Way too vague and unspecific, and I’ll have to rewrite that in the eBook.

      Seagrave is in Barcelona, Spain, and his family in Ithaca, NY. You can read more on this in the profiles for both Seagrave and Penelope, in the Webserial Cast section.

      Again, many thanks for your interest and for taking your time to post questions, it really helps 🙂

      June 6, 2015 at 20:16

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