The rubber sling grew taut in my fingers, and the itch to shoot something swelled as I aimed. This time, I couldn’t scratch the spot. I didn’t have a rock.

The rubber sling grew taut in my fingers, and the itch to shoot something swelled as I aimed. This time, I couldn’t scratch the spot. I didn’t have a rock.
A 50-word micro fiction horror story
A fifty-word micro fiction horror story.
A 50-Word Micro Fiction piece by the Queen Of Horror, Julie Kusma. Artwork by Keri Michael Dearmond.
His eyes are blue, mysterious oceans, and his lips so soft and full. Once I stole a lock of his auburn hair from the back
To listen to the audio version of this story CLICK HERE The summers here in Shallow Valley yield some of the fiercest storms, and those