Got another Flash Fiction story for you folks.

The theme to this particular story was “Blind Man Running”. I crafted it for a competition, which ended up being placed for a critque but did not make it into the top three shortlisted stories.

I’ve written the comment that it generated by the judges at the end.

There is truth in the tale, I based some of it on my Father, who lost his eyesight a while back but who remains a constant positive inspiration to me and supporter of my own creativity.

Thanks for reading and hope that it moves you, just like it did me – your comments are welcome.

Art on the Run (by David Ellis)

“It’s been five years since the accident that robbed me of my sight. It’s funny how time slows down and all of your remaining senses are heightened to a razor like sharpness.

Some people sow seeds, others dig roads. Me? I was, am and will always be an artist.

I work with shapes and navigate by the touch of objects.

It wasn’t always like this.

I used to paint, to sculpt, to control the very world in my hands and conjure up beauty at my fingertips at every opportunity.

That’s when I met Judith, who shared my artistic flair and passion – for us, art was a means to communicate and to flirt with each other, which ultimately drew us together.

We were passionate lovers, sharing a kaleidoscope of colours.

We would paint oceans and landscapes and magical fortresses together, our collective experience moving us so emotionally that we would hold hands together while we painted.

Some mornings she would swim in and out of focus like someone was spinning the lenses on a telescope.

But I never told her – I kept this secret to myself and she could tell that something was terribly wrong.

I kept picking apart our relationship, all this noise and fear and guilt and anxiety.

All I could think about was the terrible burden that I would put on her if she stayed and as I gradually began to lose all semblance of my vision, I became the blind man running, running from my true love.

She would have stayed by my side but I broke her heart and now she’ll never know.

Sometimes I would stare out into the abyss, teeter tottering over the edge, embracing the darkness to experience the one fleeting glance of light. Where every misstep is fraught with danger and becomes an adventure in your own mind.

Love, just like art will always find a way – you just have to embrace it.

Come back to me Judith – you can make me whole again.”