Micro-Fiction: A Hellish Wake-Up Call

Our first night together, lost in tender exploration. The moon is a pale spectator in the window as we both finally collapse, sated.I wake, hearing my name.The room is empty except for us. From his slack lips come the shrieks of demons. I listen to their voices. They know me. They know what I did three years ago. I jerk away, but my curiosity is powerful. I pry his jaws apart and stare down his throat to a crimson hell. Looking back at me is the child I left in the road that night… and she is beckoning.

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Poetry: Here And Here Comes The White Owl

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My Work In Progress: A Teaser