Flash Fiction Anthology

The trip

I wanted to go so much. The mountaineering expedition to the Swiss Alps at the end of the summer was my dream.

However, the timing was wrong. This year, the school where I worked, did not have enough teachers. So, my holiday, planned too close to the start of the new school year, was refused.

I was mad. I really wanted to go. But there was nothing to do, I couldn't risk losing my job.

So today, instead of climbing the mountains with them, I'm spending hours looking at the pictures the girls sent me. I'm happy for them, really. Still, it doesn't stop me from feeling some jealousy, lurking in dark, hidden corners of my subconscious.

The light wind of the late afternoon coming through my open window brings with it the warmth and the scents of the expiring summer. But something feels odd, out of place. Suddenly, I'm surrounded by the smell of jasmine. The strong, intense fragrance, brings me back to the day we first spoke about this trip.

I can still picture the moment when, back in the late winter, me and my friends started to plan the expedition. We were seated in a little cafè in the square, talking excitedly. The weather outside was still too cold for the first flowers to bloom.

Unexpectedly, I smelled jasmine. The scent which I learned to dread over the years. Whenever it came so strong, so out of place and season, it could only mean one thing. One of my premonitions.

And there it was, following shortly.

I saw our little group climbing a smooth, white glacier, looking worn out but satisfied, pausing, turning around to admire the beauty of the place, exchanging looks and words I could not hear. Then the image disappeared and I could not see anything else.

I wasn't exceedingly worried, the vast majority of my premonitions had never fulfilled. They were too unreliable, mostly just confusing flashes from some parallel futures. 'Maybes' and 'what ifs', which kept me awake at night for a while.

I told my friends anyway. As one, we decided to shrug it off, and go on with our plan, working-out throughout the spring and summer, preparing for the climb. We wanted to be in our best physical conditions.

When August came, and I had to cancel it, they still decided to go on. I couldn't blame them, I would hate to be the reason for them to give up on their dream. There might never be another occasion.

Now, they are there, far away, and me? Sitting in front of my computer, studying, yet again, the pictures they had e-mailed me two days ago. The glacier looks so pure and untouched, there is not even one footstep in the snow surrounding the little, happy group. All is sparkling white, the layers of fresh snow seem to reflect and multiply the rays of the resplendent sunshine, making the sky above look incredibly blue and icily cold.

We miss you; wish you were here.

I read the short message accompanying the photographs one more time.

I wish I could be, I think, sad smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

Suddenly, the unwelcome fragrance is back. It fills my room and makes me freeze. My skin crawls into gooseflesh as soon as I notice it- the obnoxious scent of jasmine. First it's just a hint of a smell, hiding in the bunch of other fragrances. But it's getting stronger fast, covering everything else. In no time it is so strong that I have to stand up and walk to the window, opening it wider, in an attempt to get some fresh air. But the air of the late afternoon outside carries the same fragrance.

Something is wrong. Badly wrong.

Calm down, breathe, I keep repeating to myself. By the time when my phone rings about five minutes later, I'm hyperventilating. It costs me all of my remaining strength to drag myself to it and respond.

"Angela! It's me, Helen." It is a voice that I know well enough, it belongs to a mother of one of my friends. One of those in the Alps.

They'll be fine. They must be, I think, certain that, unfortunately, my friends are not fine.

Silent tears fill my eyes as I ask, trying to keep my voice steady: "Helen, what happened?!"

My question is followed by loud sobs at the other end of the line, then an explanation.
"An avalanche. Some thirty-six hours ago. They are missing."

No, please, not this time! I plead silently, my eyes brimming with tears.

The majority of my premonitions had never come true... Why exactly this one then...

The smell of jasmine is everywhere, heavy and suffocating.