EMPTY GRAVES

MY FIRST VICTIM THIS HALLOWEEN!

IS THOM FUTRELL

AKA

THE GRIM REAPER!

Thanks, Thom, for agreeing to be part of the fun.

With out further ado a

Halloween Interview & Flash Fiction Challenge

     1. You're born on Halloween and have the ghostly evil super powers of one of the following: The Ghost from Poltergeist, The Frankenstein Monster, The Mummy, The most Evil of Witches, The Devil himself, Freddy Kruger, Pumpkin Head, Michael from Halloween, or Jason from Friday the 13th. Alternatively, if you prefer, pick one of your own. Otherwise, tell us which one you would choose and why? No friendly ghosts allowed! You're to wreak havoc in this scenario!

I open my eyes to an empty room. I hear voices in the distance, angry voices calling for the death of Frankenstein. My Father. The wooden platform is eaten with rot and age, a simple lifting of my arms and I am free. The room fills with a loud thud. They must be using a battering ram. I stagger across the concrete floor and head towards the door. I will be spending my first birthday protecting my father from the evil that is the human race.

   2. The Zombie Apocalypse is going to occur this Halloween and for 48 hours, the world is thrown into chaos. Live through it and consider yourself lucky, you've been warned. What is your first step, especially as no one else knows or believes you? Do you leave family behind and seek shelter to ride it out, or do you try to save your family? How and why?

 I load the family into the minivan, hoping they didn’t notice the couple staggering towards us from down the street. I knew they would never believe me, I was surprised they fell for my “let’s visit the in-laws” suggestion. As we pulled away I noticed Mr. Connors walking out of his house. That is bad because he died a week ago.

  3.   Because of the time of your birth, (see the 1st question) the angels have decided to forgive your sins and are offering to remedy one evil that now exists in the world, but only one! Which would you choose and why?

The human race. In horror, they tend to be worse than the monsters who haunt them

  4. Why is Halloween a favorite holiday, or not a favorite, and if it isn't why did you participate in this query? Come on; tell us your biggest most secret Halloween fantasy!

I love Halloween! Greatest Holiday ever!

 Now the fun part: Finish the story. I've given you the first 100 words. Provide us with the rest, but please hold the number to 750 words or less unless the restriction is just impossible then no more than 1000 words. The winner will receive a $10 Amazon gift card. The contest will be judged by Nancy Lynn Jarvis. The winner will be posted on Halloween!

DESPERATION HOLLER

Jerry sauntered along Desperation Holler Road that earlier echoed with the excited shouts of ghosts and ghouls as the children scrambled from house to house in colorful and frightening costumes.

Dusk dissolved into the blackest of nights as the little monsters disappeared into the shelter of the brightly lit houses with their chocolate goodies.

Jerry smiled, even suppressed laughter, because he knew there was no refuge, not in Desperation Holler on this most evil of Halloweens.

Concealed by the dark limbs of deformed trees and invasive ivy, the innocuous little cabin looked abandoned, but Jerry knew better.

The witches abode . . .

Jerry didn’t bother trying to sneak in. They knew he was coming. The door creaked open as he reached for the bell. He crossed himself before entering.

Two women were seated around a large wooden table, eating something from a bowl. One of them waved for him to join them.

“This is unusual, considering the reason for my visit.” Jerry sat down and a third woman brought him a smoking bowl and spoon.

“It’s Halloween,” one of them said. “No need to be at war on this night.”

“Halloween is the very reason I had to come here tonight. The Arch Bishop said-“

“Hush now, and try your soup,” the one on his left said. He complied and took a bite.

“What do you think of the new Arch Bishop?” The one on the right asked.

“He seems nice,” Jerry replied, taking another bite. The third woman returned.

“Are you sure he’s not too spicy?” She asked, folding the Bishop’s gown.

Jerry looked down into the red liquid that was in his bowl. He heard the women cackle and closed his eyes. He knew he was next on the menu.

ThomFutrell Author/Screenwriter

*****

Ah, poor Jerry, sucks to be dinner!

Within these pages exists a world of horror and mystery, a realm where the macabre comes alive and bites back. Journey into the horrific and unsettling world of Empty Graves and enjoy a collection of tales that will chill your blood, and send a shiver down your spine. For just a small taste of what this book holds in store for you:

v  You'll find an apartment complex with a bloody history-

v  An office worker that just won't die-

v  A city with a demon mascot-

v  An actual road to Hell –

v  A rendition of the Three Little Pigs that just can't be missed-

All this and more await you in a story collection written especially for those who aren't afraid of what evils may be lurking in their refrigerator. Nothing is what it seems in these frightening tales, each one a twisted look into the mind of T.G. Reaper-a mind that belongs in a padded cell.

Thom Futrell (T.G.Reaper) is the best-selling, award winning author of EMPTY GRAVES, FRESH GRAVES, MEAT PUPPET and several other books. He has been included in over fifty anthologies including the 2014 GENTLEMEN OF HORROR. Many of his books are written with royalties going to charity organizations such as ASPCA, AMERICAN CANCER SOCIETY, ST.JUDES, and several others. He has written several screenplays, one was picked up by LMN, and another was produced and is now showing on over 60 theaters in 21 countries.

Thom Futrell lives with his family on the outskirts of Jackson Michigan with his wife and two daughters.

*****

For one lucky commenter, 
Thom will create a character in his 
WIP using your name. 

Just answer one of the 4 questions above in a 
 comment and you could be in 
Thom's next horror story!

Thank you, Thom, 

Happy Halloween!

*****

Have you signed up for the WEP - Halloween Challenge 

Youthful Frights vs Adult Fears?

What are you waiting for?

*****

THE WINNER FOR THIS POST
IS THE AMAZING 
CHRYS FEY
CONGRATULATIONS!

A WITCHES WRATH

Welcome to October & Halloween!

I'm thrilled to announce that for the month I have 

a selection of authors who've agreed to a

Halloween Interview / Flash Fiction Challenge.

Starting October 2nd. The authors participating are, Thom Futrell, Christine Rains, Julia Press Simmons, Shannon Lawrence, Cathrina Constantine, DeAnna Knippling, Tara Tyler, Walter P. Honsinger, Ann M. Noser. and Nancy Lynn Jarvis.
With special guest judge Editor, Wendy Ely!

Wait til you read these horror stories!

Today I thought I'd start the month off with a witches tale using a prompt from the

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 

Brought to you by Priceless Joy!

Flash Fiction of 100 to 150 words based on the photo

provided by and copyright to The Storyteller's Abode.

Don't forget to add your story to the InLinkz Link-up via the

(Blue Froggy button).

© The Storyteller's Abode

A WITCHES WRATH

Mirabella's anger grew and the clouds darkened, swirling winds caused the waves to surge and roil. Lightening ripped the sky open, and thunder shattered eardrums. Mirabella watched the ships struggling to port.

Waves overwhelmed most, but the yacht Abandon still floated. How apropos, she thought, abandon me to sail into your new life with my sister. "Not today," she roared!

Finally, the Abandon disappeared under a monstrous wave, Mirabella smiled. Vengeance is so sweet, she thought.

Nevertheless, the winds grew. A Hurricane formed. The gates to hell opened and Mirabella knew the indisputable power of wrath and her sister Isabella.

100 words

Yolanda Renée © 20015

*****

*****

The WEP Halloween Challenge -

 Youthful Frights vs Adult Fears

is now open for sign-ups!

THE SECRET LETTERS

Visiting today is Abby Bardi, author of 

The Secret Letters. 

She's gracing us with a guest post about agented vs unagented submissions. 

Take it away Abby.

Unagented Submissions 

& The Secret Letters

I had been sitting on my novel The Secret Letters for some time, pondering what the heck to do with it, when my friend Gary, who is also a writer, gave me a suggestion. In the little space for messages in one of our ongoing Facebook Scrabble games, he wrote, “Why don’t you try sending to HarperCollins Australia? They take unagented submissions on Wednesdays.” It was now Tuesday.

The next day, I sent a partial to HCA through a form on their website. Several days later, they asked for more. Several days after that, they said they wanted to publish my novel. Easy, right?

Well, not exactly. This particular overnight success was fifteen years in the making. I had started the novel in the summer of 2000, just as my first novel The Book of Fred was enmeshed in the lengthy process of being published in hardcover by an imprint of Simon & Schuster. My then-agent wasn’t happy with my first draft of The Secret Letters, so I rewrote it completely, but it still wasn’t quite right.

Somewhere along the line, 9/11 happened, and it seemed no one was interested in a heartwarming family story. The Book of Fred’s pub date was actually on 9/11, and all the books at the time were on the Taliban. I put my heartwarming family story away. Every so often, I pulled it out again and worked on it, and I think I sent one version to some agents about ten years ago. But the story was still too “small.”

I kept working on it, picking it up when I wasn’t working on some other heartwarming family story that was too small, and finally this past June or so, HarperCollins Australia gave me the thumbs up. Six weeks later, it was an ebook! 

Of course, this is a far different publishing climate than with The Book of Fred. I got a nice advance for that, and the publisher assigned a publicist who did mysterious things like “co-oping.” I was able to do some book signings, back when there were bookstores, and I even did a little tour.

With The Secret Letters, I had a really wonderful editor who left in midstream and then another really wonderful editor (the same thing happened with my first book). HCA also assigned a fantastic copy editor. There was no advance, just a percentage of sales: 25% up to 10,000 books sold and then 50%. The publisher sets the price, which started out at $2.99 and is currently 99 cents! If it had been left up to me, I’d have charged more, but hey, they know more about this than I do.

So maybe the unagented digital route is not the most lucrative way to go, but what matters to me with this book is that now people can read it and that my characters, who I grew to love as if they were real people, can find their way out of my computer and into people’s hearts, where they can warm them.

*****

Thank you, Abby, for sharing your journey. 

Well folks what do you think?

Agented publication, unagented publication, or as some are finding even more lucrative self-publishing?

Now introducing - The Secret Letters

When thirty-seven-year-old slacker-chef Julie Barlow's mother dies, her older sister Pam finds a cache of old letters from someone who appears to be their mother's former lover. The date stamped on the letters combined with a difficult relationship with her father leads Julie to conclude that the letters' author was a Native American man named J. Fallingwater who must have been her real father.

Inspired by her new identity, Julie uses her small inheritance to make her dream come true: she opens a restaurant called Falling Water that is an immediate success, and life seems to be looking up. Her sister Norma is pressuring everyone to sell their mother's house, and her brother Ricky is a loveable drunk who has yet to learn responsibility, but the family seems to be turning a corner.

Then tragedy strikes, and Julie and her siblings have to stick together more than ever before. With all the secrets and setbacks, will Julie lose everything she has worked so hard for? 

• The Secret Letters is available at Amazon.
• Pick up your copy at Barnes & Noble.
• Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.

Excerpt:

The casket was a double-wide, with painted flowers on the side like a circus wagon. Pam said it looked like hippies had scrawled on it with crayons while tripping.

“She’s at peace now,” one of our idiot cousins said to someone I half-recognized from when my mother used to drag us to West Virginia, where she was born. “Just a bunch of goddamn hillbillies in the Mountain State,” she always said, like she was Martha Stewart.

“Shut up,” Pam muttered in the cousin’s general direction, smiling like she was saying something nice. I hoped she planned to provide snark during the funeral, since I didn’t know how I would make it through otherwise. My other sister Norma was in the front pew sobbing. We were keeping our distance from her, not because of anything in particular, but because we always stayed out of her way if we could. It didn’t pay to try to comfort her, since anything you said would be the wrong thing.

The casket was closed, thank God. Our mother had left strict instructions about this and everything else when she was still conscious. Even while dying, she was a control freak, and amazingly vain for someone who weighed just shy of 400 pounds, even with terminal cancer. “You’re beautiful,” we always said to her in a Hollywood voice, “don’t ever change.” She knew we were just messing with her, but she always smiled and patted her hair.

“That’s a hell of a casket,” I said.

“Sure is purty.” Pam’s eyes were red. I hadn’t looked in a mirror since early morning when I’d slathered on eye makeup, but I’d been crying all day, too, and probably looked like a slutty raccoon. “Is Timmy here yet?”

“Haven’t seen him. It’s so crowded.” I scanned the room.

“Did any of these weirdos actually know her?”

“I don’t know. I bet those fat guys were football players at her high school.” I wiped my eyes, though I knew it was a bad idea, smear-wise.

“Oh, there he is.” Pam pointed to the back of the room and I spotted our older brother. He was wearing a dark suit that made him look like a Mafia don, talking to some blond guy. She tried waving, but he didn’t notice. His eyes were on the casket. He hadn’t seen our mother in almost a year, and I was sure it was hard for him to believe she was gone. Tough shit for him, I thought. He could have come here when it would have made a difference. Now it didn’t matter to anyone what he did.

“Is The Asshole coming?” I asked, referring to our father.

“No, he says he has a schedule conflict.”

“Probably golf. You’d think he could at least manage to show up for this.”

“At least he’s clean and sober.”

“So he says. He’s probably still banging down Zombies at strip clubs.”

“Try not to be bitter, Julie. It’s unattractive.”

“Bitter? You think I’m bitter?”

As the minister cut in and began to read the eulogy my mother had probably written for him, my mind started wandering like I was in grade school waiting for the bell to ring. I tried to concentrate, but I couldn’t. Every so often I’d tune back in and hear things that weren’t true. Her devotion to other people. Her service to the community. Her wonderful family life—I could just about hear her voice coming out of the guy’s mouth. I didn’t know where she found him, since she never went to church. I figured he was an actor she hired to play a minister, and made a mental note to mention this to Pam.

As he droned on in his phony actor voice, I closed my eyes and imagined walking through the woods on the hill behind our house. Most of it was gone now, bulldozed to make room for the townhouse development just over the ridge. I made a path through the old trees, and the dogs ran in circles around me. Ahead of me was the pond, though in real life it wasn’t there any more either, except for the hints that sometimes bubbled up in people’s driveways. I was going to dangle my bare feet in the water. I could hide there all day, and no one would know where I was. Then I would run back through the trees to our house, with the dogs behind me, and my mother would be there, and Frank, and Donny.

When I opened my eyes the minister was gone, and some cousin who hadn’t seen my mother in years was reading from a wrinkled piece of paper. She was stumbling over the words, maybe because it was Mom’s loopy handwriting, or maybe she couldn’t read. It was Mom’s life story minus all the bad parts and made going to high school in East Baltimore, meeting The Asshole, and having five children with him sound like an E! True Hollywood Story. Norma was born six months after the wedding, and it didn’t take a mathematician to figure out the facts, but the cousin glossed over that, and the ugly divorce, and finished with the happy ending, my mother finding true love with Frank and then having little Ricky. Ricky, on my left, burst into loud sobs. I put my arm around him and he cried onto my shoulder. I could smell he’d been drinking again. I would have pulled him onto my lap like I used to, but he was a big boy now. When I looked at him with his tattoos, dreadlocks, and piercings, I still saw that cute little blond guy and felt how much we had loved him. We still loved him that much, but it was complicated.

Pam leaned across me and held his hand. “You’ll be fine, sweetie,” she whispered to him, though we were pretty sure he wouldn’t.

*******

Abby Bardi is the author of THE BOOK OF FRED and THE SECRET LETTERS. She grew up in Chicago, went to college in California, then spent a decade teaching English in Japan and England. She currently teaches at a college in Maryland and lives in historic Ellicott City with her husband and dog.

• Visit Abby Bardi’s website.
• Connect with Abby on Facebook and Twitter.
• Find out more about Abby at Goodreads.
• Contact Abby.

*****

CONGRATULATIONS ABBY!

Do you have an opinion on agents / non-agents, we'd love to hear it!

*****

Sign up began tonight for the

 WEP Halloween Challenge! 

Be there or be square!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

LAGUNA NIGHTS

Today, author Kaira Rouda is here to discuss her latest release Laguna Nights, with a behind the scenes guest post!

The story behind Laguna Nights and the new Laguna Beach Series

by Kaira Rouda

Whether you were a fan of the MTV Reality TV Show Laguna Beach: The Real Orange County and its spinoff, The Hills, or not, you’ve probably heard about the shows. These lightly-scripted, trail-blazing reality shows focused on the lives of real life high school students, juniors and seniors, at Laguna Beach High School.

The series aired three seasons, beginning in 2006, but it changed life in my town forever. Many of my friends blame the show for the crushing onslaught of tourism. Other locals still won’t forgive the school system for allowing MTV access to the kids and found it exploitative. The original contract had approved filming on the high school campus, but was renegotiated to exclude high school scenes.

I’m relatively new to Laguna Beach, but my family and I love it here. My sons are now graduates of Laguna Beach High School – and the ceremony is the same as it was in the show, as are many things about the town and its high school kids. At my favorite hair salon, my friend and stylist had just gotten married. She showed me the gorgeous photos and I said, “Those should be in a magazine.”

That’s when the rest of the salon customers and staff started laughing at me and one kind soul explained by handing me US Weekly where her wedding had a four-page spread. Another handed me a People magazine, and there it was again. Well, yes, Ashley’s wedding had been in magazines, lots of them, as she’d married Jason Wahler of reality tv show fame, specifically Laguna Beach.

A big fan of the show herself, of course, Ashley encouraged me to write a series about what happens to kids after that type of instant stardom. She had a lot of insight, of course, but my stories are completely from my imagination. So Madison and Josh’s story is ten years after their fame on the television show. Josh was the bad boy, and Madison – called Holly on the air – was left heartbroken, for all the world to see, and re-watch with the series on demand. Madison has run as far away from celebrity as she could, while Josh is still trying to catch it again.

Laguna Nights does share many of the same settings that made the television show so much fun to watch. There’s the hot tub scene at a house in Three Arch Bay, a private, gated community in South Laguna.

When Josh and Madison find themselves back at Fisherman’s Cove shooting a scene, I based that scene on an incredibly beautiful beach used often in the production, and one that even was the setting of my son’s music video. It’s a gorgeous spot.

Madison’s hotel is called the Mondrian in the story, but is based on the famous Montage Resort in Laguna Beach.  Their dinners in town are at a charming bistro on Forest Avenue, a place much like Alessa.

I’m so lucky to call Laguna Beach home and I’m excited to share a little bit about this special place through my new series. Fun fact: the cover photo of Laguna Nights is a photo by my son, Trace. He took it at the beach in Laguna one night. It really is that magical here.

Madison Alcott was back in her hometown, caring for her sick mom and working long hours at the best resort in Laguna Beach. She never imagined she'd return to the place where she became famous on the hit reality TV show Laguna Nights, and the place where she was humiliated on national television. Fortunately, the past had stayed tucked away until her old high school boyfriend appeared in the lobby.

Josh Welsh was a superstar by age eighteen, the bad boy break-out star of Laguna Nights. Since then, his star had lost its shine and he barely was holding onto his Hollywood status. When he was asked to host a new reality travel show, he jumped at the chance. The only problem was the first episode was shooting in Laguna Beach. Of all the reasons Josh didn't want to return home, he hadn't even imagined the worst scenario: running into Madison "Holly" Alcott.

Josh's connection to Madison was still as strong as her anger at his betrayal. When the new reality series forces them together, they must face Laguna Nights past and present, and navigate a journey where nothing is as it seems.

Excerpt:

It was an early Friday afternoon in February and Madison Alcott stood on the balcony of the Mondrian Laguna Beach, a luxurious Craftsman-style hotel perched on an oceanfront bluff. She needed a moment of zen before her latest group arrived from LA and her favorite place to breathe was this balcony. Typically, the winter breeze would be chilly, but not this year with global climate change. She was comfortable outside in her simple black dress, no jacket needed.

     Her long blonde hair blew softly in the ocean breeze as she looked out at the sparkling blue water stretching out to the horizon. Waves crashed on the shore, a sound she found soothing and had since she was a child. It was a constant, that swooshing water sound, more dependable than anything or anyone else she’d known. She closed her eyes and imagined herself lying on the warm sand, wearing her favorite red bikini, soaking up the sun, laughing with friends, maybe even holding hands with Dolby, lying side by side.

     She opened her eyes and looked down. Directly below her, a young family – two fit, gorgeous parents with two towheaded toddlers – frolicked in the resort’s signature mosaic swimming pool. The young father tossed one of the children up in the air, eliciting squeals of joy from the child, before he swam to his wife and pulled her to him for a kiss. Madison sighed.

     “That should be me, us,” she said, her words drifting on the warm air of the empty patio, and checked her watch. The group check-in would begin in just twenty minutes and she needed to be sure everything was ready. All the she knew about the group was that they were a bunch of picky entertainment execs. The booking agent had been light on details about the group’s members, but heavy with expectations of service, food, and confidentiality.

     “My group will expect complete privacy, the finest in service and flexibility,” the man had said to Madison over the telephone.

     “Of course. Um, flexibility?” she had asked. She’d stopped taking notes as flexibility was typically not one of the demands.

     “Sometimes, they change their minds. So, although we’ve set the agenda for the week, well, it is all subject to change,” he had said.

     Madison had leaned back in her chair, inhaled a deep breath and had counted to ten. She was up to her eyeballs with entitlement, especially with Hollywood types. “I’m sorry, but we’ve scheduled the best table at our oceanfront restaurant just for your party. They cannot simply decide not to show up on Saturday night.” She had been proud of herself, being firm and she hadn’t let her voice waver.

     “We’ll pay whatever. Just know, it may happen. See you on Friday,” he had said and hung up.

     Flexibility, Madison thought, walking toward the front desk, crossing the thick carpet of the lobby before stepping onto the dark wood floor of the reception area. All three staff members smiled at her and she returned their grins.

     “Can’t wait to see who’s in this group,” Chrissy said, eyes twinkling behind her wire-frame glasses. Chrissy had been with the resort for as long as anyone could remember and she still became star struck every time a celebrity checked in. Even if she didn’t recognize the person until Kevin, also a guest reception employee, showed her online. They still joked about her lack of rock star knowledge, missing the chance to ogle both Eric Clapton and Sam Smith within months of each other. She’d still proudly added them to her celebrity sightings list, Madison knew.

     “We’re so ready to be flexible,” Kevin said, tugging at the lapel of his sport coat, his red hair glowing in the spotlight aimed at the seascape oil painting behind him but instead shining on his hair because of his 6’4” height. “I did a walk-through of all of the suites. They’re ready. Champagne on ice. Strawberries dipped in chocolate. Everything chilled and waiting. We’ll make them love us.”

     Madison doubted that but smiled anyway. She loved her team. They were family to her, the reason she’d stayed on even though she should have moved on when the company had offered a promotion to a property in Sun Valley. Instead of manager of group sales, she would be a vice president of guest services. She’d told them she couldn’t leave Southern California - that it was home. But the truth was, it was the people here who worked at the resort that she couldn’t leave. And her mom, of course.

     Her earpiece crackled to life and Madison cupped her hand over her ear. “Five minutes to arrival,” said the van driver who’d picked the group up at the private airport in Irvine.

     “Got it,” Madison said, into the small mouthpiece. “Any insights?”

     “Dickheads,” the van driver said as Madison’s heart fell. She’d suspected it would be a long weekend, but the confirmation saddened her. It wasn’t as if she had anything else to do, she reminded herself, pushing Dolby and his strong broad shoulders out of her mind. She knew he’d never be able to forget what he’d watched, no matter how many assurances she made, no matter how long ago it had happened.  It was the same with her last attempt at a relationship, and the one before that. They would tell her it was fine, that they could handle it. But that was always a lie.

• Laguna Nights is available at Amazon.
• Pick up your copy at Barnes & Noble.
• Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.

Kaira Rouda is a bestselling, multiple award-winning author of contemporary women's fiction and sexy modern romance novels that sparkle with humor and heart. Her women's fiction titles include HERE, HOME, HOPE, ALL THE DIFFERENCE and IN THE MIRROR. Her bestselling short story is titled, A MOTHER'S DAY. Kaira's work has won the Indie Excellence Award, USA Book Awards, the Reader's Choice Awards and honorable mention in the Writer's Digest International Book Awards. Her books have been widely reviewed and featured in leading magazines.

She lives in Southern California with her husband and four almost-grown kids, and is at work on her next novel.

• Visit Kaira Rouda’s website.
• Connect with Kaira on Facebook and Twitter.
• Find out more about Kaira at Goodreads.

*****

Congratulations Kaira!

And in case you haven't heard my latest release is

When Zombies Attack: Tales of Horror & Romance.

Just in time for Halloween.

Which reminds me are you ready with your WEP Halloween tale?

The prompt is Youthful Frights vs Adult Fears.

Remember to Sign up on October 1st

&

Post between October 21 -23

Don't you just love a good scare?

VANITY

I am thrilled to announce that my book of short stories 
WHEN ZOMBIES ATTACK
is now available on Amazon Kindle!

And now for today's post!

Friday Fictioneers!

Hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

A flash fiction challenge of 100 words or less

The photo prompt copyright to The Reclining Gentleman.

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

© The Reclining Gentleman

VANITY

I walked towards traffic; my blood trailing in gelatinous plops would soon be washed away. The sky darkened above a layer of nimbus clouds that looked ready to release a deluge of biblical proportion.

Why wouldn't they believe me when I told them he was violent? The life of the party, the man who went out of his way for others had decided I no longer deserved to live. Well, I'd show him.

The hospital was just ahead. I gingerly carried my head. I wondered if the doctors could reattach it without leaving ugly scars.

Vanity is such a curse.

100 words

Yolanda Renée

*****

Add your link and find other great shorts!

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