A slip of flash fiction, 58-style

In Shadows
He stands bare to the waist and barefoot in the dewy grass of a park in pitch-blackness. Driven here by the incessant pounding of blood in his ears, the storm, a fury in his heart.
Bring on the night and there is no reset, no slumber. Just seething.
It’s been like that for weeks, since the accident.

1 comments:

paisley said...

i really enjoy flash,, and although i usually stick with my 100 words,, you bring it to life beautifully in the last two 58 word pieces.... maybe i ought to give that a try......