A work in progress

A flash fiction piece I am working on a for a contest, the theme being, "In the Woods". The word limit is 150.

He worked on the bird reserve, a fair ways out of the city. I took the train there. He'd been given a house as payment and was making alcohol in the kitchen cupboards. We took cups full of the stuff and slunk off to his room. It tasted like fizzy lemons. There were pressed plants hanging from the walls, their latin names written below each on an index card. He told me a stories about a local women with a gnome garden. She killed her husband by pushing him onto the train tracks. He was a conductor and she took his job after killing him.

We went on a walk around the estuary; a dried out track, a clump of forest off to our right. Over there in that forest, he'd said, I found a ghost lamp lit up, with an extension cord leading off to nowhere.