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    Divergent Dreams: A Short Fiction Collection
    Divergent Dreams: A Short Fiction Collection
    Divergent Dreams: A Short Fiction Collection
    Ebook131 pages1 hour

    Divergent Dreams: A Short Fiction Collection

    By Linda Jordan

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    About this ebook

    A collection of stories following the lives of people no one notices. Mysteries and new dreams abound as lives shift and change.

     

    Includes the stories: Mavis Forges Ahead, Murder at the Rosewood, The Beauty of Stars, A Hanging Offense, That One Summer and Eclipse.

     

    Short story lovers looking for new voices should pick this one up.

     

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMetamorphosis Press
    Release dateApr 15, 2020
    ISBN9781393673859
    Divergent Dreams: A Short Fiction Collection
    Author

    Linda Jordan

    Linda Jordan writes fascinating characters, visionary worlds, and imaginative fiction. She creates both long and short fiction, serious and silly. She believes in the power of healing and transformation, and many of her stories follow those themes.In a previous lifetime, Linda coordinated the Clarion West Writers’ Workshop as well as the Reading Series. She spent four years as Chair of the Board of Directors during Clarion West’s formative period. She’s also worked as a travel agent, a baker, and a pond plant/fish sales person, you know, the sort of things one does as a writer.Currently, she’s the Programming Director for the Writers Cooperative of the Pacific Northwest.Linda now lives in the rainy wilds of Washington state with her husband, daughter, four cats, a cluster of Koi and an infinite number of slugs and snails.

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      Book preview

      Divergent Dreams - Linda Jordan

      Divergent Dreams

      Divergent Dreams

      A Short Fiction Collection

      Linda Jordan

      Metamorphosis Press

      Mavis Forges Ahead

      Copyright © 2020 by Linda Jordan

      Murder at the Rosewood

      Copyright © 2017 by Linda Jordan

      The Beauty of Stars

      Copyright © 2018 by Linda Jordan

      A Hanging Offense

      Copyright © 2015 by Linda Jordan

      That One Summer

      Copyright © 2016 by Linda Jordan

      Eclipse

      Copyright © 2017 by Linda Jordan

      Published by Metamorphosis Press

      No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

      Contents

      Mavis Forges Ahead

      Murder at the Rosewood

      The Beauty of Stars

      A Hanging Offense

      That One Summer

      Eclipse

      Mavis Forges Ahead

      Mavis stood on the corner in the pouring rain, leaning on her cane. She was drenched. Even her lavender raincoat was soaked through and the stupid plastic rain bonnet wasn’t doing its job either. Her rubber boots with yellow tulips on them should have kept her feet dry, but only made them feel sweaty and cold. And rain was falling down into the open tops. She really should have worn slacks today.

      She looked back and forth down all four streets. People were in a hurry on their way to work. The Cuppa Joe Cafe behind her was doing a brisk business. She’d told Gloria to get here early so they could get a table. Before all the cinnamon rolls were gone.

      Gloria was late. Again.

      A young man in a business suit rushed past, nearly knocking her over. He didn’t even apologize. Mavis chalked it up to the rain instead of hitting him with her cane. She hadn’t had the thing for long, but the temptation to whack people with it was becoming almost unbearable. She told herself that it wasn’t just her. The world had grown crueler and more ugly in the last few months. And since her hip replacement, she felt more helpless. And angry.

      She could check that silly smartphone her son James had given her, but it would get all wet. No, she’d just go inside and get a table. Alone. If Gloria didn’t show up, Mavis would just have coffee and a cinnamon roll without her.

      She pulled open the heavy door and managed to get inside without tripping over her cane or getting tangled up somehow. She looked around. There was only one open table. By the door to the kitchen. Noisy, but warm.

      She went over and sat down on the wooden chair, trying keep her balance and not fall over. Then slipped the coat off her shoulders and over the back of the chair. She wasn’t going to get any wetter.

      She took off the rain bonnet and shook it gently so as not to drench the businesswoman at the next table, tapping away at her computer. Mavis didn’t want to get the woman’s computer wet. She knew her way around computers. Worked in offices and then for herself, as a bookkeeper not that long ago, after James had grown up.

      Classical music played softly over the speakers. Just loud enough so that if Mavis was here alone, she wouldn’t feel self conscious. With all the racket going on around her, she could barely hear it. Coffee cups and dishes, forks and knives scraping on plates, computer keys tapping, people talking on their phones or headphones, people chewing with their mouths open. It was a cacophony.

      She pulled out her smartphone and opened it. No message from Gloria. Mavis texted her. And waited for an answer.

      The waitress, who Mavis didn’t recognize, hadn’t brought a menu. Or water. She rushed around taking orders from other tables, delivering food and pouring coffee and water.

      Mavis waved a hand at her at least three times, but the waitress must have poor vision.

      Miss. Oh Miss, said Mavis loudly. At least four times.

      The waitress didn’t hear her.

      Mavis’ stomach growled at the smells of bacon and eggs and coffee. She was hungry.

      The tables emptied and refilled, but still the waitress ignored her.

      And Gloria didn’t answer the text.

      Mavis kept trying to get the waitress’ attention. With no luck. She might as well have been invisible.

      Mavis looked at her phone again. Sent an angry text to Gloria.

      Her face and neck grew warm with irritation and annoyance. Her blood was up.

      She’d sat here for an hour. Her raincoat was even dry.

      She could see that the bakery case was out of cinnamon rolls. They never restocked after 9 a.m. Not on weekdays, at least.

      Finally, she stood, put her raincoat on and gathered up her purse, cane and rain bonnet, and walked out the front door. She didn’t try to hunt down the waitress again, probably back in the kitchen. It wasn’t worth the effort now. They’d just label her as that cranky old lady no one wanted to wait on. Maybe they already had.

      At least the rain had stopped.

      Mavis walked down the street getting angrier and angrier.

      She should have stuck her cane out and tripped the waitress. That would have gotten her attention.

      And Gloria, well, she could just go to hell. That was the last time Mavis would try to meet up with her. The woman did not have the ability to show up when and where she was supposed to.

      Her stomach rumbled as Mavis walked towards the bank. The car insurance company had sent her a piddly check for an overpayment. Not enough to make much of a difference to her bank account, still, she needed to deposit it. What a bother.

      The bank had remodeled again. It used to be a grand building, with stately white columns and gold-braided decoration running around the edges of the ceiling. The marble floors had made it look very formal and trustworthy. Now it was all painted in grays and cold dark green. Trying to look modern and sophisticated and approachable. It sure didn’t work for her.

      As she entered the door, Mavis saw three men with guns. A fourth lurked near the door, perhaps ready to grab people or shoot them. He looked right through her as she walked past, as if not seeing her. Or as if she couldn’t possibly cause them any trouble. He said nothing, just stared at the door.

      The customers, including the security guard, lay face down on the floor. The two tellers were busy stuffing bags with money.

      It looked just like a movie. A bank robbery.

      Mavis decided she’d had enough bad luck for one day. She’d come back and deposit her check another time. She went right back out the door and the man there didn’t even seem to see her.

      Standing in another doorway halfway down the block, she looked back at the bank.

      Mavis saw two police cars pull up in front of the bank. They wedged in a white van parked in the loading zone. One with a shifty-looking boy in it. He had a hood pulled up tight around his head and wore huge sunglasses. Two more police cars arrived in a hurry. All of them silent.

      Good, said Mavis, to herself and went on her way down the block. Where had she parked her car? She really needed to get some breakfast. Maybe she’d just stop at the grocery store on her way home.

      Later that day, the bank robbery was on the news even.

      The robbery was foiled, the newscaster said in her bubbly blond voice.

      Mavis spent the next two days thinking about her strange day of seeming to be invisible. Wrestling with her conscience rather. Perhaps once in her life, the choice would have been easy. To keep being a good person. Now she didn’t want to anymore. Aging, pain and loss had made her more bitter than she liked. She wanted to even up the scales of things that were out of ordinary people’s control.

      What if she really was invisible? No one appeared to have seen her for the last two days. Not the waitress, not the robbers. If the food in her refrigerator hadn’t been disappearing into her stomach, Mavis would have wondered if she was dead and become a ghost. But ghosts didn’t eat. And she could see herself in the mirror.

      Even Joe, her neighbor, hadn’t seen her out at the shared mailboxes on the sidewalk yesterday. He always said hello to everyone without fail. He’d walked within two inches of her. She even felt a slight breeze when he passed. He hadn’t even noticed her. His little dog, Sparky, hadn’t seen her either. Although he sniffed at her pant leg, so Sparky could smell her.

      Mavis had waited to open her mailbox until he’d turned back towards his house. It wouldn’t do to have him to see it open without anyone standing there.

      So she could be smelled, at least by dogs,

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