Short Fiction from a Writing Prompt

Carolina walked into the rain and didn’t look back. That was the last time anyone ever saw her.

But it was also the first time they had seen her, so they took some comfort, as they rolled their pumpkins back home, that some people come and go, some people are just passing through. The old Filipino proverb had never been proven wrong: if things are meant to be, they will never happen. Fate has a funny way of denying herself a future.

Carolina may not have looked back, but Katie did. She did not join the rest of the village in their long walk back home. She stayed there, holding the torch so high that the flames licked against the feet of the crows swooping over her head. She stayed there and she watched the darkness envelop Carolina. She watched the rain fill Carolina’s footprints so that the next morning wild foxes and daring cats would lap up a cool draught from the rainpools. She watched, knowing that life would go on even if fate did not.

Finally, when the rain had stopped, and the moon had set, and the fog of a new day was beginning to settle, Katie lowered her torch. It had stopped burning, stopped steaming, hours before, but Katie had not noticed. She had not noticed the dark or the cold or the droppings from the angry crows. She had only noticed the absence of the strange, tall girl—the girl who had been fated to be her friend. Betrayed by a fate that could never happen.

So Katie walked into the rain and only briefly looked back. That was the last time anyone ever saw her.