A leather plague doctor mask with monocle.

My short for NYCMidnight’s MicroFiction contest took first place this round!
100 words in 24 hours. I was assigned Historical Fiction, Closing a Window, and the word “buckle.”


Greymalkin hissed from his perch on the sill. Clara shushed him.

The chirurgeon passed below, pushing his cart of medical supplies. His black beak mask and long buckled coat made him a carrion crow. He smelled as foul.

A Latin phrase rang across the street, chastising Clara for the devil’s familiar in her window.
The new priest was an avenging angel in white–the fathers washed their robes in piss to keep them clean and holy.

Clara shooed Greymalkin inside, and closed the sash. The doctor said homes with cats didn’t get the Plague, and she’d outlived five priests.


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