Dying, I listen to the tape of her screams. Did I do right? Should I have enjoyed the blood as it splattered in slow motion? Was the thud of flesh ecstasy?
He won't hurt her again.As the bath warms and drains me, my Yellow Rose awaits innocent, smiling again.
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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.