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Objects: Stories of Things
Objects: Stories of Things
Objects: Stories of Things
Ebook45 pages34 minutes

Objects: Stories of Things

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Objects make up a large portion of any life. Mementos. Souvenirs. Little bits of paper with scraps of inspiration. In “Fresh Dead Flowers” a man who prefers flowers as his companion is confronted with a flower that changes his life. “The Jacket” looks at how letting go can change a life. It also has a side of angels. A woman is given a choice and a straight razor in “Her Daddy’s Straight Razor”. A con-artist finds himself enthralled by a beautiful woman and a business card in “Lipstick on a Business Card”. Finally, a woman chooses not to acquire what she is sent for in “Brain Broker”.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAlledria Hurt
Release dateSep 25, 2014
ISBN9781310977985
Author

Alledria Hurt

Born in Waynesboro, Pennsylvania, Alledria Hurt has traveled Europe and the United States. She received her Bachelor of Arts degree in English Literature and her Master of Arts in Liberal and Professional Studies degree from Armstrong Atlantic State University. When she’s not writing, she prefers video games, reading, and long walks with her dog, Xerxes. She currently lives in Savannah, GA with her family.

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    Book preview

    Objects - Alledria Hurt

    Objects

    By Alledria Hurt

    Copyright © 2014 by Alledria Hurt

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

    ISBN (EPUB)

    Cover Art by Andrea Bell

    This is the Smashwords Edition.

    Table of Contents

    Introduction

    1. Fresh Dead Flowers

    2. The Jacket

    3. Her Daddy’s Straight Razor

    4. Lipstick on a Business Card

    5. Brain Broker

    About the Author

    Fresh Dead Flowers

    Mortimer Anthony Smith was on his evening constitutional wherein he recited to himself the Latin names of plant species he encountered when he was stopped by a thick voice questioning,

    Spare a quarter?

    Clutching his coat he whirled, his mind already building a man to go with such a voice. A societal weed growing up from the pavement on a steady diet of whiskey or wine rather than water and fertilized in its own feces. He was not disappointed. Bloodshot eyes watched him hungrily as the voice asked again.

    Spare a quarter?

    No.

    Turning back to his business, Mortimer continued his recitation as the man behind him began to cough. Mortimer winced away from the sound immediately attributing it to some kind of fungal infection. One that was undoubtedly catchy. That cough went on far longer than was polite, yet Mortimer kept his back to the man.

    Somewhere in the coughing fit, a few words tried to slip out but Mortimer recited over the top of them. This was his quiet time. His time to be out of doors like a potted plant set on the stoop to enjoy the rain. He intended to do exactly that.

    Behind him, the bum collapsed, wheezing, gasping, coughing, crying, pleading. Mortimer finally turned to look. The man’s chest rose, hesitated, then fell where it hesitated again before rising more slowly. Mortimer Anthony Smith watched a man die with less fascination than he had for watching his night blooming flowers open, but he watched.

    As he was entertaining some vague notion of contacting the police, the man’s mouth, now hanging open and full of a blackened tongue, sprouted a seedling. Before his eyes, it grew by inches and added leaves, then bulb which like a lily which unfurled into a majestic trumpet of velvet blue.

    Dropping to his knees beside the body, he cupped the radiant flower and inhaled. The scent eclipsed the manure it came from as it should considering its perfection.

    Now what shall we call you? he asked.

    The petals shivered under his breath then shriveled, the bloom breaking off into

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