The Grim Calling – Flash Fiction – October 7, 2014


The Grim Calling

He’d arrived a few days earlier in London from his native Scotland and would return on the morrow.  His fold awaited him and he could not stay away long not even for this important work of the Lord.

The cold thick fog of London swirled around him as he walked along Buck’s Row in Whitecastle.  The clock struck the half hour and he’d pulled his coat collar up to his ears where it nearly meet his hat in order to keep out the cold and damp.

He’d prayed that this cup might pass from him, but alas he was called to do the Lord’s work and couldn’t do less than follow His will.  Ah, but it was a grim calling.  Here among these poor creatures of the Lord, it was his duty to save whom he could. His duty it was to purify the souls of these poor fallen women, so that they might be received into Heaven.

And so, he walked, waiting for the Lord to lead her to him, she who would to be saved.

Mary Ann Nichols moved towards him, and she pulled down her shawl to show her white shoulders and bosom.

“Oy Johnny, do ye no want a bit o’ warmth?” she brazenly said to him.

“Aye, I’m in need of some warmth, lass.  And you dressed the way you are could do with some warmth as well I’m thinking! Come, let me take you from this darkness into the light.”

He put one hand into his pocket where his sgian-dhub was hidden and with his arm around her shoulders he led her to a nearby alley.


Written for Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie – Tale Weaver Prompt – Grim

The Victorian Lady – July 17, 2014 (Flash Fiction)

6. © Eclectic Odds n Sods

I was walking down a lane in an old district of London one evening when I suddenly realized that the light of a lamp-post cast a shadow that shouldn’t have been there.

It was in front of an old run down brownstone house. The other buildings weren’t modern of course, but they’d been recently refurbished. To me the windows resembled empty woeful eyes, looking on a world with which it felt no kindred ship.

The street light flickered and suddenly I felt dizzy. To my surprise a beautiful young girl stood not far from me.

“Ohi Gov, would you be wantin’ some company this evenin’?”

She was talking up an elegant gentleman, who looked to be in his forties. He was your classical strait laced Calvinist sort.  I was fairly certain he wouldn’t be interested in her favours.

He looked disdainfully at her then hissed: “Harlot! Can one not walk down the streets in peace without being accosted by the likes of you!”

Then to my horror, he pulled out a knife and began to viciously stab her.

She screamed: “Oh Lord have mercy .. it’s Jack!”

Flash Fiction Prompt – We Drink Because We’re Poets