Wednesday, 9 July 2008

Dinner was Late

The old house was great for hiding away in; it had nooks where other houses had en-suite. Shirley squatted, the pain would come later but the bleeding lip still dripped. She could hear him yelling, pleading, whispering,’Sugar, where are you.’ She knew from the tone when to come out

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Welcome and thanks for dropping in. I'll pop by yours by and by.

This blog was inspired by First 50 words where you freewrite from a single word prompt. I use random words or images to create flash fiction in formats ranging from twitter postcards to short short stories.