Flash Fiction: From The Golden Key

Illustration property of Claudia Bettinardi. Follow this link to her blog for some great illustrations

The following piece is again something I wrote some time ago. I actually had to go digging through some files to find this one. It is a kind of rewriting / response to one of the Grimm fairy tales known as The Golden Key. I encourage you to read the original version after reading mine; if only so that you can be angry with me. Cheers! Comments always welcome.

From The Golden Key

By John Little

For hundreds of years I have waited. Sense a time long ago that I can not quite remember, I have been laying in this field. I have watched the all the stars shift, ever so slightly, around the dark horizon. I have seen every color of the sun at least twice. I have spoken to every creature from mole to mouse and badger to bear. Every animal enjoys my company, but has no idea of my use. They lack the appropriate digits to make use of me. The crows like my shine and the rats like my texture. A raven once thought to take me to his nest, but I begged him to leave me be. He agreed but he would visit me every day until his death. That was several decades ago. I have sunk deeper into my doom. These things I see anymore only as memories, not as realities. Cold, it is so very cold. It must be winter. Snow. Dark. Now Light. I see light. Little hands, such cold little hands. What is this?  A boy?  A beggar boy at that. He seems cold and hungry. I would surmise that what lies in my chest would make him a happier lad. If he saw to take good care of me I would grant him such a pleasure. I shall guide him to home. Yes. Yes the keyhole is right, there, got it! Now all you need do is turn and find what is inside, my little shivering savior.