Each night, eight pairs of miniature, pale baby hands clutch my neck in a bewildered hope, a little too tight for me to breathe. They want me to stop for what I did to them, and maybe I will. Ill hold my breath for eternity to forget the nightmare you carelessly blessed me with. |
Author's Comments
Okay, I really really need some serious critique for this one. Don't sugar coat anything, anything at all.
Its for *Flash-Fic-Month. The task was to write a story that is exactly 55 words. I thought it will be ridiculously hard BUT it came out fairly easily, which is the reason it sucks. A lot. So please help me make it better, I still have about 28hours until the deadline closes, and about 5 or 6 until it opens. Word count at the moment: glorious 55! |
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Comments
1) you had to encorporate the number 8 in there somewhere! he he... sorry I'm a stickler for the rules lol!
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:iconnewhugplz:
--
Life is lies, so the honest play with the dead.
I WRITE with a pen, TYPING with a keyboard comes latter.
URBAN NOISE cares, do YOU?
--
Life is lies, so the honest play with the dead.
I WRITE with a pen, TYPING with a keyboard comes latter.
URBAN NOISE cares, do YOU?
--
:iconnewhugplz:
--
:iconnewhugplz:
--
Life is lies, so the honest play with the dead.
I WRITE with a pen, TYPING with a keyboard comes latter.
URBAN NOISE cares, do YOU?
--
Life is lies, so the honest play with the dead.
I WRITE with a pen, TYPING with a keyboard comes latter.
URBAN NOISE cares, do YOU?
--
:iconnewhugplz:
--
Life is lies, so the honest play with the dead.
I WRITE with a pen, TYPING with a keyboard comes latter.
URBAN NOISE cares, do YOU?
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