by Patsy Collins
I concentrated on breathing. Trying to ignore the crushing weight of his body, the chill of my exposed flesh, his hot pawing hands, I stared at the sun glinting from the coloured windows.
He shifted position; I jerked my knee, made contact and rolled free. I ran; battered my hands against the locked door.
The church porch provided no sanctuary.
4 comments:
*shudder* Nice creation of a nightmare in almost the blink of an eye.
Yikes. Well written.
It's amazing how much you managed to fit into such few words. Powerful imagery.
Thanks!
I did try extending it but somehow that seemed to take away, rather than add to, the story.
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