She sat on the floor looking up at him. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She’d pushed him too far again. A few more petals fell from the flowers in her heart. They were beautiful once, before him. He saw to it that they’d never be beautiful again. Only a handful of the flowers still cling to life. Most of them have long since died beneath his heavy hand. For years she struggled to protect their beauty. Now she just waits anxiously for the last petal to drop, wondering what she will become when the beauty in her heart is gone.
I skipped last week due to the holiday, but I’m back now with an offering to the Friday Fictioneers gods that is more tragedy than horror, at least until the last petal drops. I have a feeling that that is when the true horror will begin.
Also, in case you missed the announcement, WICKED LITTLE THINGS (100 Tiny Tales of Terror, volume 2) is available on Amazon, Smashwords, and in Print (B&N coming soon). Pick up a copy and let me know what you think. Thanks in advance and you have my condolences for the sleep you’ll be losing.