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The mist rolls in over the hills. It would be so serene if you didn’t know what it brings. 

You wanted serenity, peace. Calm, after the whirlwind that has consumed your life. Yes, I know it hurts now, you told yourself. But it will all be for the best. You’ll see.

You try to believe yourself.

But when the empty house became too much to bear, you took yourself here: to the hills that you used to love. As you follow the curved road upward, all the memories of your time spent here come flooding back to you.

You stand at the lookout point and remember: watching the sunset with your parents. Kissing boys where your parents couldn’t find you. Watching the birds circle, rising on invisible air currents, indifferent to the small, wingless beings below.

You think that maybe you can let this go. Maybe you will always carry these hills in your heart, even if you never set foot on them again.

Then, the mist.

Those coming changes – so painful, so needed – had filled every corner of your mind and heart. You’d forgotten about the mist.

Somewhere in the distance, the Hydra emerges from its slumber.

The Hydra does not care if you are exhausted, sad, or prepared. Soon, you will hear its many maws snapping, with a blood-chilling “Viva!”

Flash Fiction Month is upon us.

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July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. Today’s prompt comes from Teresa “Amehana” Garcia – The mist rolls in over the hills. It would be so serene if you didn’t know what it brings.

I’m very tired. I don’t know how I’m going to manage this month.