She’s thirsty. Some water, to rid the taste of him in her mouth. She pauses, the cup halfway to her lips. A noise, under his snoring. She sees his arm, stretching impossibly long, coming from the bedroom. “Where are you?” “What are you doing?” Stretching around her, pulling tighter. And tighter. She drops the glass.
Please (microfiction)
Published by GhoulieJoe
I'm a mom who loves horror movies, the '80s, and the library. I write about the above three topics more than is healthy. I've got reviews, listicles, lil nonfiction pieces, and random bits of whutnot. I also included some pretentious as hell microfiction (don't worry, it's at the bottom). Because horror is life and vice versa. View more posts
GhoulieJoe 