Blood Flower by Tim Eagle (Part 4)

Welcome to FREE FICTION FRIDAY!

I give you the very old, circa 2016, version of Blood Flower, a macabre tale that I rushed through back in my young impatient years. Please enjoy, and please don't be too harsh, it's fiction from my beginnings, while raising a family, working full time, and grinding daily...the genesis of an ambitious writer. If you want the properly formatted version of this in print and don't want to wait every until Friday to continue reading for free, please buy a copy in print here: Blood, Dreams & Tears or purchase the eBook here: Blood, Dreams & Tears

*

The memory faded slowly, the crime Jake faced punishment for, lingered inside. He wanted to tell the truth, but no one would listen to him, it was too late. The sun slowly crept higher and closer to noon. The large copper cross that rested on top of the church’s steeple began to shadow the tops of the trees. A rash broke out on his hands and feet and Jake grimaced, his mouth forming an odd, insane smile. Someone, mistaking his grimace for laughter, punched him in the side. It was one of the guards. Jake buckled at the blow and stood up holding the spot where he was pounded. The guard sneered at him, his teeth yellow and clenched, and his eyes two slits of anger. He could almost hear the guard hissing like a snake but knew it was imagination. He knew that his end was near and that there was nothing in the world that could save his life. 

With so much to gain by living, Jake made promises to whoever was listening in the cosmos, that ethereal world that he never truly believed in until now when he needed it the most. He swore that he’d never be bad, would always do the right thing, follow the right path, and then he remembered the flower he found in the cemetery. 

It was alone, sheltered by the shaded area of trees in the border. It was growing where no other sunflower did and survived. In hindsight Jake realized the flower was like him in many aspects. The blemished sunflower in his pocket meant something, but what? His panicked mind raced for an answer and suddenly he heard his mother whisper, Krew kwiatów. He shivered and thought of the story his mother told him as a boy, what little he did learn of the Polish language the words meant, Blood Flower. 

“Luck it brings to those who hold it, Jake, luck and nothing else. It rests alone in many sacred places, long before humans, many years before this tarnish.” His mother used to tell him. She would wave her hands flutteringly emphasizing the tarnish of all material things and what evils lurked within people. “You must never underestimate the sacred trust of nature, and what blessings they deliver, never.”

Jake, from the lost memory, felt some relief remembering the story. But it wasn’t enough reassurance to comfort him in the time of death and his walk down Sunflower Row. He wished to look at the dormant flower in his pocket, maybe it was a charm, a talisman that would bring luck to him, for all he knew it was a Blood Flower. He longed for another glimpse of his past, maybe a time when his mother described the flower. He couldn’t, his mind was exhausted, his body ached from standing and the discomforts continued.

Jake took in a deep breath and when the guards looked away he fumbled for the sunflower in his pocket. He was able to get one hand in; the cold hard steel of the cuffs prevented him from pushing in deeper. His meditation had been on such a deep level that he didn’t realize that it was fifteen minutes from high noon, and the Death Walk. 

Thanks for reading! Sign up for my monthly newsletter and/or buy me a coffee, (click the coffee mug on the top) and help support all these goodies I give away! Stay tuned for Thankful it's Monday (TIM) Updates, RV There Yet Tuesday, WOW Wednesday Movie Pick, Thirsty Thursday Indie Book Reviews and of course Free Fiction Friday! Come back often and support my writing journey!

Tim Eagle

Tim Eagle is an author of the novellas Stolen Seed, Life Ship, and the Vasectomus Collection. He lives full time, on the road, with his wife, Maria and their dog, Cocoa. He grew up in Michigan and is inspired by the dysfunction of America. His books are available on Amazon, godless and this site timeaglefiction.com 

Tim Eagle's Blood Flower