Laughter and After

Author: slapdashmonuments

Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?

Her laughter broke the silence.

Ed knew, at the sound, what had been lost; what could never be recovered. The wait was over, and now the fight, or the flight, would begin. He cursed the urge he had yielded to: a hunger for light. A spark of knowledge: her knowledge of his location in the pitchy basement. In hiding, a sound or a bit of light was a confession.

She knew: he was there. His only hope now was to stop being there, without a sound or a glimmer.

Her low chuckle lent him no advantage; he had no weapon. Or rather, he now knew where he should not go. Light as a gecko, he leapt slantwise across the floor, landing on point. A crate was against his cheek. He'd nearly hit it.

No. Wrong plan. Su's laughter died out, from above and to the left. Without light, eyes shut, he leapt twice more, memories guiding him, her echoes a beacon.

Silence. She would be right in front of him on the steps. He clenched his arms together and swung hard at where her ankles should be.

Before connection, a crack-- from behind.