Beating back the darkness, he ran slowly forward, hands held out wide in front of him, groping for an unseen object. He felt the cold iron grip on his shoulder, turned and knew no more. "Isn’t death beautiful"?a faint breath whispered through the air "Thrillingly so". he replied softly.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Death (Flash Fiction)
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Welcome to "Teen Waves" Matt,
ReplyDeleteWonderful to see you linked up and your blog looks great!
Your flash fiction is quite disturbing and darkly beautiful!
P.A.