Flash Fiction Story

As many of you know, I love writing flash fiction. Here’s a new story for you:

Escape

I stop, tears streaming down my cheeks. Soft whispers caress me, building in sound slowly, the harshness of the words with them. The snap of stiff wood to my right, a yell of triumph to my left.

Fingers of fear creep over me, prodding, pressing, pulling, refusing to leave me alone. My feet find movement and the relentless rain stabs at my mouth, my nose, my eyes.

I think of my pursuers. I know what they did to Annie; I know what they’ll do to me.

A shimmering light catches my eye. How can I have ended up back here? Pretty pools of sparkling blue dance on the water, mesmerising, motioning me forward. I’m sure I can see Annie. She is smiling, beckoning me.

Hands grab me. Rough, snatching handfuls of hair. The ducking stool awaits, but I am no longer afraid.    

***

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26 Responses to Flash Fiction Story

  1. Not sure about ‘follow through’ though…

  2. So good, I read it three times, Esther. It was the ducking stool that took me up that path to a twist I never saw coming.

  3. I love how the ending grabs you. So unexpected.

  4. Oooh, Esther, this is chilling.

  5. Rae Longest says:

    Like your story. I grew up near a community named “Witch Duck Pond.” I liked the story.
    Stealing your meme, please.

  6. Kim Smyth says:

    That was awesome! I like the meme as well!

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