I take one more sandy step, then turn. My footprints fade quickly, the wind and waves taking their slow toll. A gull alights on my shoulder, saying, "Nothing lasts. Nothing."

"But so soon?"

"You want them to abide? Seal them with blood."

"Blood? My blood?"

"No, it must be another's. That, the spirits of air and water will avoid."

"Blood can't be my legacy."

"But only a drop."

"It doesn't matter. Blood is blood."

"Many do it. All who you think famous chose thus."

"I won't be remembered that way."

"Good. You may find the Other Way."

"Oh?"

"To be peaceful sufficient that the spirits themselves want to remember you."

"How do I...?"

"I never said it was easy." The gull takes flight.

===

I'm not a very visual person, at least not when it comes to writing. Origami is almost wholly visual, yes. I enjoy drawing; I craft with Kitten and delight in it and her. However, when times comes to write, I usually think in words.

This one wasn't truly visual. It was more a gestalt. First was the memory of the story, even though it wasn't yet written. This ersatz feeling gave me guidance - from knowing how I should feel, where I should be, after reading it, that gave me some hints as to what the story was, how it worked.

From there came the nurturing, the growing. It expanded, and I pruned it back. Again this cycle. For some reason, I have a fixation with the hundred word limit, though I know flash fiction can be quite longer than that.

This one is over a hundred words. I tried to trim it, but again, I cannot find ways to do so without compromising either the story or the characters. As I said before, I can't give much by way of description, so the gull's words and syntax should be something fluid, yet unorthodox. "My" words, on the other hand, should be everyday.

As for the theme, I cannot say if that is ordinary or not. I hope it is worth some thought, mundane or magical.