A fifty-word micro fiction horror story.
Category: Feature
A Keeper
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
Fallen
My “flight” was late, and it never was. Punctual were the returns to Heaven after deeds were done. But her skin glowed under the moonlight,
Push Pull
“My flight was late,” I confessed. The sweet, sultry memory stirred. Rare for me to concede to desire, but our dance’s push-pull elevated want to
Mercy
My flight was late, teetering on the edge between life and death. I closed my eyes and considered existence, suspended in this space. My toes
Timebomb
My heartbeat ticked in my head. Both eardrums thumped, and the vein on the side of my neck pulsed in unison with each beat. Every