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WHERE THE LEVIATHAN SLEEPS: Flash Fiction Friday

The tide grazed my ankles, and my toenails shined with bioluminescence. I knew I was ready.


Grandma always loved the ocean—so much, in fact, that she moved here a few years ago. I’d always thought the salty air, and the white-noise of tidal crashes calmed her. When she quickly reached a point unable to care for herself, I followed her right to the coast.


Her final days were filled with words I’d chalked up to dementia. “I’m going,” she’d say, “to the place where the leviathan sleeps. To the deep, to the deep, with family secrets left to keep.”


The coroner came to retrieve her body soon after. He wore dark glasses through which his eyes shone like gibbous moons. The footprints in his wake soaked the carpet. And when he touched her, I saw her fingernails glow with blue light.

She’s been gone for some time. The house was left so empty, and I was left so lonely. I’m going to join Gam-Gam in that place so deep, where the leviathan sleeps.

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