Tracy Royce and Lorette C. Luzajic
after Kite Eye, by Sylvia Fein (USA) 2006
Flora walked out into the breezy afternoon, her wrist still stinging. The bruises would bloom soon, his little reminder to keep her market visits brief: buy the paint, the bread, the wine, and return to him without delay. “I’ll be watching,” he’d said before releasing her.
It was the first time in days she’d escaped the confines of the studio they shared, not that “shared” was precisely the right word for their domestic arrangement. Flora’s role was to supply Alvin with everything he needed, cater to his every whim.
Flora hurriedly chose a hefty loaf of sourdough, Alvin’s favourite. The vendor woman was chatty, inquiring about her day, but she didn’t dare spend time on conversation. As she paid for the loaf, the woman’s face changed. She put her finger up to her eye. “I see you,” she said. Flora watched as the woman pulled a trinket from her pocket. “Take this,” the woman said. “Turn everything around. It’s a kite eye. It’s very old. Wherever it hangs, you will be able to see everything, from wherever you are.”
As eager as Flora was to conclude the transaction, she almost laughed aloud. What was this psychic silliness?
With an apologetic smile, she said, “Oh, thank you, but I couldn’t accept such a nice…” She trailed off as she noticed the scar on the woman’s hand, circular, like the cherry of a cigarette. Or an iris.
Flora startled as the woman pressed the bauble into her palm, gentle but firm, crooning, “You’ll see, you’ll see.”
Alvin often abandoned Flora in the evenings to drink with the locals at the pub. She used the opportunity to tuck the oddment high up and away atop a bookshelf. To her surprise, she was immediately flooded with images, fast-moving reels. She saw Alvin daubing thick paint from his palette onto a canvas. She saw him draining a tumbler of bourbon and ice, seated with some neighbours who worked at the auto shop, all of them watching the game. She shuddered when she saw a much younger Alvin tumbling down the stairs, his father standing ominously with arms crossed at the top.
It appeared that the kite eye’s reach was much broader than she had anticipated. And just as the bread vendor had promised, the kite eye did turn everything around. Because Flora had never before noticed just how small this man she lived with was. She’d felt diminished by his talent and his reputation. His cruelty. But now she saw the way Alvin fidgeted when his buddies started a conversation among themselves. When he was no longer the centre of attention.
Even more surprising, she saw him in the apartment, crying and begging.
Then she watched herself, luggage in tow, her jaw set with resolve as she opened the door and slammed it behind her.
Authors’ note. We both love art and ekphrasis and speculative storytelling. We decided to collaborate through ekphrasis and with each other on flash stories. Each of us picked several paintings that stimulated our imagination, then we winnowed the pool of candidates down to our favourite-favourites. We decided on a condition of non-attachment and total flexibility, so that each of us had a total green light during our turns to add, subtract, or alter the story and its details as we were inspired. The stories emerged a few sentences at a time as we traded the drafts back and forth. It was challenging initially to let go of one’s mindset, style, and usual routine as a writer, but as we got the hang of it, it quickly became a spontaneous, fun, and creative process that felt surprisingly natural.
Tracy Royce is a writer and poet with work appearing in 100 Word Story, The Ekphrastic Review, and Hot Flash Literary, and forthcoming in Heavy Feather Review and Best Microfiction (2026). Her work has been nominated for Best Small Fictions, a Touchstone Award, and a Pushcart Prize. She lives in Southern California, where she enjoys hiking and watching Richard Widmark films. You can find her on Bluesky. Lorette C. Luzajic is a writer, editor, publisher, teaching artist, and visual artist and most of her work is inspired by her lifelong passion for art history. Her work has been widely published, nominated, awarded, anthologized, and translated into Urdu, Arabic, and Spanish. She is the founding editor of The Ekphrastic Review and The Mackinaw.
Lorette C. Luzajic is a writer, editor, publisher, teaching artist, and visual artist and most of her work is inspired by her lifelong passion for art history. Her work has been widely published, nominated, awarded, anthologized, and translated into Urdu, Arabic, and Spanish. She is the founding editor of The Ekphrastic Review and The Mackinaw.