The Shot

Tuesday, July 31, 2012 11:58 AM By crosswaysnet , In

(Drabble contest entry - bookrix.com)


The boy stares at the eye as it stops seeing him. A frozen gaze that freezes the moment. He holds his breath by instinct. The weight seems to grow in his hand. His other drops the slingshot to the grass below. He feels a slight tap on his sneaker. A single red drop spreads to a stain on his shoelace.

I did this.

A twitch in his palm; a rustle of feathers. The dove jerks and rolls over. Will it fly? A nail scratches his wrist, drawing a drop of his own.

A noise closes from behind. “Good shot, son!"

The Drawer

11:51 AM By crosswaysnet , In

(Drabble contest entry, bookrix.com)


The bathroom door ajar. Slowly he crosses the threshold. Only the tick of the grandfather clock in the hall. Odd shadows behind the shower curtain. He pulls it aside. A smear of blood down the tile to the body of his wife. Throat slashed. She’d threatened it - she’d ruin him at any cost. But how? He stumbles back to the bedroom; an overwhelming need for a drink. Frantic for the hidden bottle, he throws open the sock drawer. Cash missing. Reaching deep, his hand hits something cold and wet. He lifts a bloody knife. It’s not mine! 

“Freeze! Police!”

The Devil's Wife

11:48 AM By crosswaysnet , In

(Drabble contest entry - bookrix.com)

Dirt and sky. She looks up as the shadow passes. Her whole life has been a shadow. Now the late afternoon sun returns as a delayed rain pelts her forehead. The devil’s beating his wife.

“Well, now he’s got someone else to beat,” she says bitterly. “This devil’s done with his beatings. I’m free.”

The rain hardens, threatening hail. The trickle down her arm creates a streak of brown between her fingers. She opens her palm and stares at the wettened soil. She lets the rain wash it into the gaping maw before her. Splatters thump the plain casket below.

The Kiss

Thursday, July 5, 2012 3:42 PM By crosswaysnet , In





The blurred light grew. The man felt his eyelid open slowly, tentatively. He was floating - on what he could not be sure. Something below and within stirred, expanding. A sound - a slow wind - sounded around him. 'Within' continued to rise. A soft click murmured and 'within' began to deflate. 

It's my body…

The man listened keenly to the sound of, what, exactly? Air - flowing from his lungs. It seemed to go on forever. Then, another soft click. 'Within' began to rise, again.

I'm alive… Why?

Why wouldn't you be?

Because, I…

The man searched for an answer. None came. And it didn't come ever… so… slowly. Each click echoed down a long tunnel to his mind's ear. Each moment rushed and lingered for an eternity at the same time.

Where am I?