the typewriter clicks away at tomorrow’s headline. the typist is distraught with the story. the Queen has passed. her nation is mourning. chrysanthemums line the street as the bells toll. click! click! click! ding! who shall inherit the crown? be that it may, she was unmarried, no children, and no living relatives. the smell of revolt is coming. just like in France. click! click! click! ding! rebellion is rising. rebellion is rising. God save us all!
Category: Fast Fiction
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the grim wolf is in a graveyard of stark evil. the night will not come natural to the enemies of darkness. they will flee from that which prowls and cower in fear. who can be safe from the yard’s defender? Abandon your pursuit and walk toward the light before he swallows you up. no one is too far gone. Redemption is just as simple as the wind blowing south. fly from it. flee. flee. he lurks in the dark.