Imprisoned in an old chamber, the convict stares at the puddle. His footsteps are masked from the dripping water. He envisions the escape as he crosses streams of doubts dimly lit by the chesire moon. Alas, freedom as his eyes grow wide from a gruesome cracking of neck bone.
A little sample of my flash fiction series in development. I am pushing through my busiest time of year at work. My writing has been sparse but the ideas are now streaming in as more time frees up into the summer. This just stands as micro fiction in itself. Hope you enjoy!