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Noorie had found the love of her life. He was Steve, a handsome six-feet-three Caucasian. And in him she had found herself. Remove the ‘Cauc’ and she was revealed, a pretty five-feet-two Asian.

They had met at university, the nurturing ground for many love stories such as theirs. It was a class of quantum physics that kindled the attraction. He adored her brains. She loved his smile. When they stood together, they oddly looked like father and child.

It wasn’t age but the height difference.

He asked her out to coffee. She said no sugar, he wanted no milk, they sipped from each other’s styrofoam cups. The days went by in morning walks and evening library sessions. She wanted to gaze at the stars, he wanted to bring them to her.

His poetic words made her laugh. Noorie had her heart set on becoming an Astronomy major. Steve chuckled with her. He recognized the strand of humor. His sights stretched towards research and attaining the post of Assistant Professor.

The hot summer turned to autumn and then a freezing, harsh winter. And when spring seemed just around the corner Steve applied for a transfer. He told Noorie that he couldn’t thrive where he was. His ambition couldn’t let him stay put.

Noorie smiled while shedding tears the size of lemons. Steve’s heart trembled at the mesmerizing beauty of mixed emotions. They hugged and kissed and made promises for the present and a better future.

Distance would be a slight bump in the road. A test of their love’s devotion.

The transfer came through. A celebratory party was due. Him and her and two bottles of wine. Steve drank too much, Noorie pretended she did too. And when the axe came down on his legs, Steve had already passed out.

Noorie stood with the blowtorch. She couldn’t let him bleed to death. He was hers forever. Without his legs, where would he go? Disposing of them now the only remaining headache.

He seems quiet and distant. That’s because he’s trying to listen. The Silent Participant hears all that you say.

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47 Comments on “Noorie and Steve Forever – Flash Fiction Story

  1. Wow, as long as Noorie got him, she didn’t care if he was limbless. Fantastic imagery and construction of words as usual Terveen:)

  2. The wordplay is excellent.

    “Noorie had found the love of her life. He was Steve, a handsome six-feet-three Caucasian. And in him she had found herself. Remove the ‘Cauc’ and she was revealed, a pretty five-feet-two Asian.”

    • Thanks so much, Matt! This was a revelation to me too. I was like WHOA!
      Haha! But that’s creativity. 🙂

        • I reckon an alien one might have visited here the other night LFC. I swear it was in the shape of a cow. ‘Twas jettisoning spent fuel….shit! i said……being a knowledgeable cowflyer yourself could I have been mistaken?

          • That is very possible my friend. And yes, you might certainly not have been mistaken. But be aware: The Flying cow is also a concept, an analogy, a philosophical construct. Of what is it an analogy, you might ask? Ok, I don’t have a clue as yet?

          • Phew! I’m glad I wasn’t seeing things……flying cows needs to get rid of their spent fuel just like jet…. and just like contrails their spent fuel is chewed up by the atmosphere before reaching ground……imagine the shit if it were not…….can I suggest it is analogous to an orbiting spacecraft (eg international space station)…… their spent fuel is urine released to the void where it instantly freezes… not quite a cow but you get the picture…..jeez LFC ‘philosophical construct’ is getting a bit deep for me…..keep on looking for the clue though……

  3. “If you love someone, set them free. If you *love* someone, fire up the blowtorch.” –some old saying, probably

  4. Hahahahaha; and, wait, what!? You had me hooked in so well to the love story, when you switched, it was rather, well, jolting. In a great way. Excellent story, Terveen. 😊

    • Thank you so much, John! A train probably could’ve done the same harm to Steve’s legs. Appreciate it! 🙂

  5. Pingback: Simply Guilty of Small Sins - Flash Fiction Story | It Ain't Right Till I Write

  6. Wow, what a story. I didn’t expect such an ending. LOL. That’s so funny and gory and whimsical.

  7. Rereading back over this one – I simply couldn’t overlook the height aspect of it. Especially since there was emphasis put on the fact that there was a height difference between them. After she cut his legs off, I couldn’t help thinking – ‘Well, now they’re going to physically be on the same level.’ I’m not quite sure why! Maybe also because of the diction in this sentence: “His sights stretched towards research.” Now they won’t be stretching at all – they’ll be right at her level, by her side. Forever.

    • Haha! I love how you’ve put this. Simone, you’re very clever. You’re the only one who caught onto this. It was somewhere a part of the story structure. And yes, Steve can now just stand at Noorie’s level, his tall and long dreams, a thing of the past. His legs no longer contributing to any difference between them.
      A dark love story. 🙂

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