The Shadow On The Staircase

flash fiction

I woke up sitting upright in bed, in a cold sweat. The dream, the one that I have had most of my life, was haunting me again. I tried to slow my breathing, and come back into my body. My fear in the dream was so great that I always woke up before I was really awake – the mind was awake, the body was not. The shadowy figure always appeared at the head of the staircase, moving away from me. A fleeting thought crossed my mind – the same thought that I always had: What in my past am I so afraid of?

(c) June 2018 Bonnie Cehovet
Reproduction prohibited without written of the author.


Peace – At What Price?


I joined the line, candle in hand. Not exatly sure why I was here. It sounded like a good idea – a community ceremony for peace. Heaven knows there have been enough problems – problems that were under the surface until now. Well, now the wound has opened, and it is much deeper than anyone realized.

This is the quietist line I have ever been in. We look at each other, smile reassuringly, then look away again. Our hearts are torn open, and we are living in fear.

I step forward, and light my candle. A sense of peace comes over me.

(c) November 2016 Bonnie Cehovet

Reproduction prohibited without written permission of the author.