2025 PARANORMAL FLASH FICTION CHALLENGE THIRD PLACE

and third place goes to…

Mara Venn

CIRCUMINCESSION

Dearest Thomas,

You are in my thoughts. All the time.

Did the gloves I sent last time fit? Couldn’t find stencils of your hands; had to trace mine instead. Hope you’re keeping warm. I’ll send socks next. As soon as they’re finished.

The coal sacks come lighter each time. Stove’s staying quiet. I only burn it when it’s unbearable. This autumn is worse than last. Don’t think I’m complaining, though. You have it worse in the trenches. Your ground must be cold.

I’m praying for warmer days. And for you.

Mrs. Atteberry got her yellow envelope Tuesday. I’m listening to the radio every day, dreading.

Please, please come home.

Love, Tammy

Dear Thomas,

I dreamt of our childhood; that time we picked crab apples from covenant’s garden. Sister Agnes was so very mad, remember? Then, so forgiving. And apples were so very bitter. The sweetest we ever had.

A boy came today. Sent by the Sister, he said. Orphaned like we were. Apparently, she still takes them all in and names them after her Twelve Apostles. This one’s Tom, too. Imagine.

First thing he said was, “I’m home.” Poor thing.

He’s so you. The way that you looked years ago, my dearest younger brother (please don’t be cross, I know you’re only an hour younger). You’re my little brother. For all time.

So. Come home too, little brother. We’re waiting.

Love, Tammy

Dear Tommy, // Paper’s been “redirected”. Again. Sorry the letter’s hard to read. // Radio misbehaved for days. Doesn’t work now at all. I walk to the Village Hall after shift. Walls are echoing cries so loudly. // The child’s no bother. Keeps to himself, like you did. Loves apples. Prays with me every night. Even looks like he understands. // Isn’t it heartwrenching? Children knowing what “war” means and praying for it to end. // How many children are there with you? // Use the same envelope. // Love, Tomammy

Brother, // Hope you like the socks. The boy helped me finish them. He grew so fast. Seems like just yesterday he was three. I always thought girls grow up sooner. // He has your eyes. His reflection doesn’t seem to match him. You’re looking back at me. Like you’re here. // He calls me “big sister”, too. Don’t be jealous. I’ll always be your big sister, no matter what. // Mrs. Atteberry saw me and the boy together. Screamed like she saw a ghost. // Poor woman. How brutal. There isn’t even a word for her. A mother who lost her child. // Miss your voice. // Return, brother. // Tam

Brother, // We prayed together again. Psalm 23, just like Sister taught us. Not sure if she taught Tom, too, but he recited along with me. In that child’s gibberish we made up when forgetting the real words. // Odd thing: radio turned on by itself just as we said benediction. Sounded like you. Or maybe I was already dreaming. // Tom said, “Sister will be cross, go to bed.” So I did. // Sounded like you. Tom

Thomas

What is it with me today? Not to worry.

Tom Tam

Tom started talking again in your sleep. I, conversely, haven’t slept much. Night raids. They wake me. But seem to lull Tom. He sings me your lullaby. Wait. I sing to him? Sorry. I’m tired. Reply already, why don’t you?

Thought I heard Angelus. But it rang three times. Whomever for, Taom?

Dear Tom,

Got your letters today. Bundled, twined, marked “Undeliverable”. How silly. Must be a clerical error. I have, after all, received them.

Mrs. Atteberry inquired about a child today. My child, imagine. Poor woman. Sees ghosts.

You’re home

Tom

Finally.

Assigned Phenomenon: Doppelgänger
This story was written as part of our recent paranormal-themed contest, in which each participant was assigned a different paranormal phenomenon.