Member-only story
Flash Fiction: 366 Story Seeds
Tainted Omens
Fiction: In the mourning room.
The reception room was framed in inspirational sunsets, waterfalls, mountain lakes, and photos of laughing children. Cian Moriarty paced between its dayglo child-friendly chairs and couches. He wrung his hands. Sticky, now, he wiped them against his best pair of jeans.
Suited and booted like a politician, Lorcan lounged in a semi-recumbent tree pose, laptop balanced on his knee. The castanet clacking on the keyboard, his curly half-mullet bent to focus on the screen, distracted him from the whirling what-ifs in his skull.
A social worker stepped out, guiding a grim-faced couple past. Her startling jade eyes flicked to the brothers.
Their future and Tara’s hung on this meeting’s outcome.
‘Cian, Lorcan?’ she said. ‘Avie McGowan. Come on in.’
The office announced itself a haven of calm cream chic. Cian clocked two large boxes of tissues beside the potted ficus plant on the oblong coffee table between their three-seater and Avie’s armchair.
Please, no more tears, Cian thought. I’ve had my share.
Lorcan stood his briefcase to attention on the floor beside him. He oofed into the well-sprung 3-seater sofa. Cian bookended…
