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Un-nefer, Lord of the Underworld, also called Osiris, waited by the river, arms folded. And waited. He had felt uneasy ever since Pharaoh Amenemope died, appeared before the Tribunal of Forty-two, and submitted to the weighing of his heart. Seth, Un-nefer’s old nemesis, had been there. That put Un-nefer on alert. He had no reason to trust Seth, though Un-nefer tried to rise above old enmities. Enmities? Seth killed me, dismembered me, and…Un-nefer pulled himself away from the memory and back to the present. Seth had no reason to interfere. Amenemope’s judgment had been true. As regent Amenemope had cared for his ailing father, lost wife and sons to an accident, mourned them all until his own death, and treated his subjects with mercy and compassion. What did Seth want?
Un-nefer chafed at the delay. He looked around and froze as sudden laughter filled his ears.
“Waiting for something?” Seth asked.
“You know I am,” Un-nefer replied, filled with foreboding. “What have you done with him?”
“If you care, why leave him unattended on his journey?”
“What have you done with him?” Un-nefer’s voice boomed in the depths of the Underworld.
“He’s where I can watch him. He interests me.” Laughter echoed, faded as Seth retreated.
Un-nefer trembled, head bowed. How had things gone so wrong? Never, in all time…well, not since the first time. Seth was wily. Untiring. Un-nefer sighed. He had lost one of Amun’s subjects, no matter how. Shoulders squared, he breathed deeply. Amun must be told.
Un-nefer approached the great god with humble demeanor, stood, waited for Amun’s attention. Clouds swirled around them.
“I wondered how long you would wait, my son,” Amun said. “We located Amenemope. Only just. I would have sent for you soon.”
“Honored father,” Un-nefer said, relieved. “And?”
“He was transported beyond this time by Seth. How, I do not know. He has power. I’m sure I needn’t remind you.”
“Beyond this time? What do you mean?”
“He resides in the future.”
“How is that possible? And…if you don’t know how this happened, can we get him back?”
“With Ma-at’s help I can do many things, but get him back?” Amun sighed loudly. Wind swirled, whispered around Un-nefer.
“Was not that the purpose of finding him? We cannot leave him there to, well…live without his people and gods.”
“It is done. He has made a life for himself, with friends, and has a professional career. He’s adjusted quite well.”
“He has a what?” Un-nefer was appalled.
“A career. He’s an archaeologist. He searches for old things. Studies them,” Amun said with an airy wave of his hand. “He is remarkably suited for it, as he studies the remains of his old life. Of our land. Understandably, he’s a bit chary of studying his own times too closely.”
“I hoped to see him, talk to him. Would Ma-at permit?”
“She thinks you shouldn’t go there. It’s too dangerous. She’s considering other…options.”
“Options?”
Amun smiled. “What would you do?”
“I don’t know.” Un-nefer stood, head bowed, then looked up, eyes glinting.
“How far in the future is he?”
“Many lifetimes. It’s very different there. People have forgotten the old ways. Amenemope is adjusting well. I wonder, now, if he would be content living in the West.”
“What will happen if he…dies again?”
“He will die. He is not like us, and not like those who are in the West. Forces are moving in his time. His fate, the manner of his death, is not yet certain.”
“What has Seth done?”
“The things he set in motion, well, he cannot stop them,” Amun said. With another wave of his hand, added, “Go. Wait for Ma-at. Wait. Don’t try to find her, or Amenemope. Don’t worry. All will be well.”
In the deep dark of the Underworld, Un-nefer searched for Seth. Then Ma-at appeared just in front of him, with Seth beside her. Ma-at said, “Amenemope is gravely injured, three of his friends also.”
Un-nefer, afraid for Amenemope, stretched up as tall as he could and confronted Seth.
“Do you understand the price of your meddling, how many lives you’ve changed?”
Seth straightened and cursed. Un-nefer saw Seth could not quite match his height.
“I just planted him there. They got into trouble without my assistance.”
Un-nefer moved closer. “Untrue!”
Suddenly Ma-at was between them, facing Seth, who stepped back. Ma-at, wings spread, loomed, larger than Un-nefer.
“We come seeking justice for these mortals. You must rectify what you have wrought or answer to Amun. We will not intercede, Un-nefer, Thoth. Nor I. Choose. Quickly!”
“I need time!”
“Listen to him whine. Coward!”
Ma-at stood, silent, said then, “Remember, Un-nefer. Even Seth deserves justice unless he rejects the ways of the gods.” Ma-at’s voice strengthened. “You, Seth, choose well. We cannot wait.”
Un-nefer watched Seth shrink in size. He looked trapped, and Un-nefer knew that Seth would gain nothing by delay. He cannot debate me, Un-nefer realized, not in front of Ma-at.
“Very well.” Seth said. “Let’s see what we can do for these mortals.” He expelled a breath, said, “I thought you might be happy to finally have him in your care.”
“Cease! Be quiet!” The air trembled, and they both shrank in size. Or Ma-at grew larger. Un-nefer was not sure which. He felt a swirl of air move and saw a shadowy ibis head in his mind. Amun and Thoth listened.
Suddenly Un-nefer doubted his ability to save Amenemope.
“Come,” Ma-at purred. “Do not lose faith in what we can accomplish together. We must work together, with no open discord between us.”
“My lady, I will do whatever necessary, with my enemy, if he agrees to the same.”
“I have said so,” Seth began, but after one glance from Ma-at said, “I will do so.”
Ma-at nodded, satisfied. “Now we begin.” She drew feathered arms upward. Un-nefer and Seth followed her actions, cast their minds outward and began striving for life and healing for the four mortals at sea in beds of white.
Kate Flint, a native of the Pacific Northwest, began writing novels after a challenge by a friend. She enjoyed that first attempt so much she continued writing and perfecting her craft while caring for family. She has a keen interest in history, especially ancient history, along with anthropology and archaeology, Kate loves to ask “what if” and see what happens, with just a little bit of added magic and mystery. Who know what one might find around the next corner or bend in the trail? Kate Flint presents her first published piece here, Un-nefer’s Triumph, part of a larger story where an age-old rivalry between ancient Egyptian gods repute anew when a dead Pharaoh is misplaced in time—on purpose.
Timeless by T. R. Neff
Desire by Katharina Gerlach
Covenant by Chris Makowski
Autonomous Militarized by Gina Fabio
Pipes by Barbara Lund
From Bad To Worse by Bill Bush
Under Surface Of The Stars: A Story Poem by Juneta Key
Un-Nefer’s Triumph by Kate Flint
Super Jill by Vanessa Wells
150 Words or Less for each episode. There are 82 episodes in the short form outline. Book one expanded and revised version is currently in production. Plus five episodes of a short story outline in the same world. Coming in 2023.
This was an experiment on Medium where I outline my first book in the Midlife series in short form, 150 words posts. I created 82 episodes. I am currently writing the first draft expanding and revising. I also have a short story in this world that outline on Medium–Midlife Mayhem. This is complete list of the episodes for reading for convenience. You can find all on Medium on my profile and in my lists on the right side of my profile under the name of series.
Want To Support My Writing Enabling Me To Get More Stories Out?
If you are not a Medium member you can read the first three episodes for free. You can subscribe for $5 a month and become a member. I am in the Medium Partnership Program which means I earn money depending on how many minutes a reader spends reading, which depends on how long my stories are. Theses shorts are under 1 minute in read time, so I don’t earn much, but if you subscribe and use my affiliated link, I will get a small portion of the monthly fee for as long as you are a member. Thank you in advance for supporting my work. Here is my Medium Affiliate Link.
Midlife Crisis Trope
Genre: Paranormal Women’s Fiction
I turned 40, filed for divorce from my cheating soon-to-be ex-husband, if that is not bad enough, he MURDERED me. I didn’t stay dead. I’m magical with a destiny. Who knew? Not me!
I have seen ghosts all my life, mostly I ignored them. I thought everyone one saw them, but I live in a magical world I could not see before I died. Now I can’t unsee it. I am a ghostwalker. I have no idea what a ghostwalk is or does, but the dead and the magical do. The dead gave me a guide and teacher to help me figure it out, and the magical community just wants to hire me or use me.
In the human world I am an orphan, a procrastinator, and just can’t get my shit together. I have stayed in a marriage for ten years despite the fact I should have left after the first year. He comes from a big family. I so wanted to be part of that so I hung on. I should have faced the fact they will never love and accept me.
When I caught my husband in bed with another woman — in our house! Well, I was done. Ok I admit, I had suspected he cheated over the years, but in my face? I finally had enough and left filing for divorce.
I am not even sure it was the cheating that did it, but it was the last straw of disrespect I was willing to accept.
I’m tired of being seen as a doormat, people pleaser, the needy orphan in need of love and acceptance, and taken for granted — by everyone! It is time I demanded some respect, and apparently the universe decided to help me with that, along with Shamus, my cheating husband.
This short form experiment was an outline for a novel, which is currently in production expanding, revising, and editing for book length. Read the outline of the experiment that started the series all 87 links on one page for convenience of access.
Want to know more, stay up to date and be the first to hear when Midlife Ghostwalker is released?
I wasn’t what anyone would call a nice person. I was grumpy, sarcastic, and I’d earned every scar on my body in ways that would make most people have a nervous breakdown.
But nice or not, there were some things you didn’t ignore – not if you saw them and had the power to act. And the hint of power I could feel from the woods demanded action.
“I do believe in fairies, I do, I do…”
I pinched my nose when I heard that half-whispered chant on the breeze.
Damn Peter Pan to hell. The whole play was pure fey propaganda.
I could feel a trickle of power coming from the woods, surprising in the sheer uncontrolled strength but also in the desperation behind it.
Whoever this kid was, they’d managed to crack open the edge of reality like an egg.
Not an easy thing to do.
The whispered chant slipped though the woods, thinning the barrier betwixt and between. I tried to hurry, but my cane was sinking into the soft earth, which was giving my hip hell.
“I do believe in fairies, I do, I do.”
I grimaced. Yeah, I believed in them too, which was why I had a ziplock bag full of salt and mixed with iron oxide in my pocket.
The thing about fairies is that sometimes you ended up calling a unicorn. And sometimes you encountered a redcap. Even the Seelie court was fairly dangerous if you didn’t know what you were doing, and a completely disproportionate number of fey creatures would just eat you if you were in their way. No muss, no fuss.
I arrived and saw a rumpled child in a jacket that was far too light for the weather. Skinny. Frail.
Faintly glowing with power.
She?
I think it was a she.
I glanced at the kid, with very little to indicate whether it was a boy or a girl…not that I knew much about kids, but even with the short hair and clearly mismatched secondhand clothing, there was something delicate.
Pretty.
I clinched my jaw.
They fey liked pretty things.
The sickly-sweet smell of farie power burned my nose as I ran toward the child, casting shields and recklessly spending as much power as I dared.
I dove between the child and something reaching for her, handful of salt and iron making a quick circle.
I pulled the child to me. “Be still.”
“She called us.” The hissing sibilants wound their way from the shadows. I saw the child’s eyes widen.
My lips twisted as I stared into the undulating darkness. “I doubt it was you that she had in mind.”
The darkness inside the shadows laughed. “She didn’t specify.”
I didn’t comment on that. The foolish child hadn’t – an oversight which had once led to any number of children disappearing and never being seen again.
My hands trembled. “Called or not, you can’t cross the circle.” If I could keep them busy until the power faded, they’d have to leave – they couldn’t survive in this magically dry area without power – a lot of power. I looked down at the child.
She didn’t look like much.
Whatever was sitting in the shadows wasn’t fooled by her scrubby appearance. The kid had some serious magical firepower – and all the hallmarks of being completely untrained.
I had a pretty good idea of what was waiting in the shadows, and it wasn’t interested in raising the little girl as a changeling.
It would probably just eat her.
Probably.
The child was completely terrified and clung to me like she hadn’t been the one calling the thrice-damned things in the first place.
I felt pressure behind me, the hair on the back of my neck raising. I tossed a pinch of salt and iron over my shoulder instead of looking – more than one type of fairy could use the faith of the action against you – the act of looking back lent it power it didn’t ordinarily have. Tossing salt over the shoulder was just good luck – and probably where the superstition came from.
I heard a hiss from behind as the iron fillings and salt hit it.
The child pulled on my sleeve. “What is that thing?”
I kept my eyes on the formless mass. “Hush. Stay still. I will explain later – if there is a later.”
Have I mentioned that I wasn’t good at dealing with small, unfinished humans?
Because I am not.
I felt the power began to dissipate and fed what little power I had left into the shields – it would cost me in a few moments, but I had a terrible feeling that – yep. I felt a jarring attack on the shield as the fey thing in the shadows clawed at the shields with brute force in a desperate attempt to finish what he’d started.
My eyesight dimmed as my hip gave out and I sunk to the forest floor, clutching the child to my side as the shield compressed around us. The rift in between healed- and the fey – realizing that his chance to return was ebbing, fled as the rift sputtered out of existence.
I looked at the child from my seat on the ground. “That was a very foolish thing to do.”
Then I promptly passed out.
I woke up hours later. A cheery fire was burning to one side and the child was poking at it with a stick.
“You should have gone home.”
“No home to go to. And besides, if I had left you, the gators would have eaten you.” She offered me a suspicious-looking bottle of water. I took a quick sip, then another.
“Someone is going to be worried about you.”
“Won’t.” I’m not much for mind-reading, but the word was packed with images that made me think the child was right.
I used a tree to haul myself up. “Put out the fire and let’s go home then.”
The kid looked up at me.
Sometime very soon, when my powers were topped off, the people from her memories would be receiving a visit from me. They would not enjoy it.
I would.
I wasn’t what anyone would call a nice person.
Welcome to Storytime Quarterly Blog Hop. Speculative Flash Fiction from authors around the globe. We love comments so stop by and say hello.
Midnight At Christmas by Juneta Key
I Do Believe In Faeries by Vanessa Wells <–YOU ARE HERE
Summoning Spell by Jacquilyn Walker
Ark-Ship One by Katharina Gerlach
A Halloween Costume by Jodie Nahornoff
Every Christmas Eve we gather at my aunt’s house to exchange gag gifts.
Unfortunately, I had to work on Christmas Day so could not stay the night. I had gotten
to my aunt’s house late, so I was making the long three-hour drive home just before
midnight.
My aunt lived in the country where neighbors were not visible to the eye. Mostly
because she was surrounded by trees with a field or two poked in between.
The radio was still playing Christmas music, so I plugged in my iPod to listen to my
cruising track. My headlights bounced off the whites lines, marking the edges of the ink
black highway.
The night was so black and clear the stars peeked out like a million tiny pinholes across
a deep never ending black velvety night sky.
Nights like these made me sure there so much more out there in the universe. I felt
small under that dome yet connected to something bigger and more wondrous than I
could ever imagine.
I flipped my car heater on low to knock the chill. The whoosh of warm arm felt nice on
my arm and legs. I enjoyed the freedom of driving even at night. The time alone in the
car allowed my mind to settle, think- and yes -imagine all kinds of wonderful stories I
could write.
Winters in Texas were unpredictable. I left home this morning without my jacket with
temperatures in the upper seventies. Tonight, there was a distinct chill in the air at fifty-
two degrees.
My tires hummed, eating up the asphalt road snaking for miles through rolling black dirt
farmland, fields of barley and oat, longhorn cows, and yes, some sheep.
The houses set so far back off the road you could not see them unless they had lights
on.
Some were just single trailers in vast fields of crop. Many had fence lined or tree lined
driveways that went straight back for a mile or more.
My favorite was about half-way to my aunt’s house. It was an old house that had been
around since the 1800’s and set off the road about half a mile. They decorated for
Christmas, and you could see it a mile before you arrive across the open fields.
I was on the last leg of my drive home.
There were no other cars. This late at night and on a holiday, the cars on these long
highways were few and far between.
I heard a rackety-clack sound, followed by a loud knock. My little white Kia jerked as if
something fell out from under the car.
The engine sputtered.
Died.
I coasted to the roadside. Turning the key trying to restart. I heard a couple of clicks
than nothing.
I was grateful I always kept a flashlight in the car. I popped the hood. The engine looked
intact. I shone the light on the dark road behind me. I saw nothing that looked like it
had fallen out, but I guess it could have rolled of the road out of sight.
The night loomed darker and a little ominous despite the starry sky on the country
roadside. There were no houses in sight from where I had rolled to a stop.
I fiddled with the battery and checked the water. I inspected my tires, which looked fine,
despite the loud noise I had heard.
I went back to my car and tried to call for help using my cell phone. It didn’t work. No
service. I walked a little ways from the car trying to get some bars, but did not want to
go too far away.
It was then I realized I had forgotten to charge it before I left my aunt’s.
I got back in the car to charge it. My car charger was missing. I always kept it in the
car. Did someone take it? I searched the car, even checked the trunk.
Nothing. I guess I was walking if a car didn’t come by soon.
I got out and looked up and down an empty highway and started to get back in the car
to wait.
I froze.
Held my breath.
The night lit like day, as I was pinned pointed by a oval light brighter than daylight.
My mind screamed don’t look as I forced my eyes skyward despite the brightness.
I expected it to blind.
It didn’t.
The light fluctuated. I could just make out a saucer-shaped craft hovering above me. It’s
radius at least a block wide. Multi-colored strobe lights danced in a circle around its
circumference.
It was the beam from its center that created the illusion of daylight. A sharp piercing
sound made me cover my ears. My stomach rolled, the room begin to spin, and then
nothing.
No sound.
I couldn’t move.
Was I dead?
How much time had passed? I had to blink a few times. I was staring up at bug-eyed-
like lights, making think of a honeycomb. I felt cold to the bone.
My arms, legs, body were all free, yet I couldn’t move. I could see nothing holding me
down. I lay on some metal bed-table.
Had they given me some kind of drug? My heart hammered. I caught movement to my
right through my peripheral vision.
I must be dreaming. Tallish, steeple-like, white big-eyed bipeds were milling around the
room carrying royal rainbow colored geometric-shaped boxes. I counted three, taking
several deep breaths.
Okay.
Yeah, I was afraid, but THINK!
I was a 911 Dispatcher, a first responder, for goodness sake. I’ve listened to horrible
things and kept my cool. I could do this.
Another deep breath. Exhale.
I tried my voice and sounded like a raspy frog.
“Hey, I need some help. Can someone help me?
No response.
“Hey, I need to pee.”
That didn’t phase them either.
They probably couldn’t understand English. I was able to turn my head a little now.
I wasn’t the only human in the room. I could see other beds with small people in green
and red costumes, also not moving. Children? The faces looked too old.
On my left lay a large deer with huge 5-point horns.
A jolly voice said, “I am afraid Juneta that Christmas has been abducted this year.”
“You know my name?” The sound of the other voice relaxed me a bit.
“I know everyone’s name. Including the aliens.” He chuckled. “Ho, Ho, Ho, Merry Alien
Christmas!”
“Santa Claus? You’re not real.” Yet there he lay, prone like me in red suite, white hair and beard, and yes beer belly.
His blue eyes dance and his belly jiggled despite his prone state, as he tried to get his
breath, and control his deep laughter.
I didn’t think it was that funny.
“That so? Neither are aliens.”
Welcome to Storytime Quarterly Blog Hop. Speculative Flash Fiction from authors around the globe. We love comments so stop by and say hello.
Midnight At Christmas by Juneta Key <–YOU ARE HERE
I Do Believe In Faeries by Vanessa Wells
Summoning Spell by Jacquilyn Walker
Ark-Ship One by Katharina Gerlach
A Halloween Costume by Jodie Nahornoff
