Postcard-sized flash fiction about the things we think we know about others, life, death, and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

Deadly Mist

The mist crept closer, slithering across the boot prints she left behind on the soft, moist ground. She urged her legs to go faster over the uneven path. A leafless tree grabbed at the flying strands of her long silver hair as she ran past.

Postcard-sized flash fiction about the things we think we know about others, life, death, and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

Path of the Dead

The path of a ghost is etched into the earth, hammered and chiseled by heeled boots, flat leather soles, and the barest of feet. I follow the prints up and over the rise. There is a man standing by the car, smartly dressed in black

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