Flash Fiction


THE NUTCRACKER - PART 2 by JL Williams

Our tiny apartment in the heart of the woods. During the day my mother, my sister and me are happy. The love between us fills our small home. Each night, however, a monster comes out of the woods. Many of our neighbours are killed and we are never surprised to meet new folks in the morning. We do not ask where they come from or warn them about the monster – it seems so obvious that we assume they would not have come here unless they were unafraid.

Each evening we pack our little bags and set off single file toward our secret cabin. It is possible the monster, which is a giant nutcracker, could find us but our paths never seem to cross. He comes hungrily out of the woods in a rush and has his fill of villagers while we hide ourselves safely away in the last place he would look to find us, very near to his own abode.

There is such a rhythm to our coming and going that we often forget life was ever different from this. That neighbours stayed around long enough to become friends and that fear, deep, stomach-turning fear, was not a nightly barrier to sleep. We would forget things in the cabin because of our extreme tiredness, such as leaving the tap on. How many evenings we arrived at the door only to see the muddy ground outside, testament to our affliction.

Sometimes my little sister gets grumpy and upset. She is still very small and all the hiking back and forth is especially difficult on her. I can hear her behind me whispering to herself that if Daddy was still here we would be fine, that he would set a trap for the nutcracker and that the birds would come back to the village.

I want to slap her when she talks like this but I stick my fingers in my ears and hum to myself, always the tune of Peter and the Wolf, a record we both love and used to listen to while falling asleep before I stepped on it one night and shattered it.

By JL Williams, Copyright 2008. All rights reserved.





Flash Fiction