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Friday's 55 words of fiction:
Shear terror. Indecisiveness was familiar, but fear that rendered her breathless while filling her eyes with wet made dithering almost unbearable. Below her, far far below her-- the ground. The longer she gazed at it, the further away it seemed. Could she really take the plunge?
She closed her eyes. What is life, without risk?
One sniff ends my reverie.
I swore I was over you, yet sweetness and affection come roaring back, evoking good memories as if you’re dead, and the bad no longer exist. The ache within swells. Wait, what went wrong again? Baby, baby…where did our love go?
And why do strangers have to smell like you?
:+:
More on these 55-word short shorts here. Like a few other bloggers, I've committed to writing one every Friday. Give it a shot. It's addictive. :)
Friday's 55 words of fiction:
He hated fighting; she was too good at it. The air felt like someone had neglected to evacuate the apartment before setting off one of those roach bombs to fumigate. Poisonous.
Why was she his girlfriend? He wasn’t happy.
This would be the last time he cheated on his wife with her, he was certain.
Friday's 55 words of fiction:
She nervously adjusted her sari, hoping no one noticed. So far, the night had gone flawlessly; she had made a good impression on everyone, she could just tell.
The older woman at the table noted how silk was tugged upwards. Taking a delicate sip of tea, she thought, “She’s not good enough for our family.”
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