FLASH Fiction – Ellen’s Flashlight

Ellen’s flashlight bobbed along the street, illuminating broken bodies. They’d belonged to people once, but were now empty shells. Ellen hated death’s stench, but it followed her just like the flashlight.

She met the light at a wall splattered with gore and surrounded by china-white shards of broken children. The flashlight’s beam passed over letters bled onto the wall telling her to run. She was not afraid. There was nothing to fear. Tonight she’d died the last time. Death was past.

The remains of her past bodies stirred with a breeze. Ellen switched off her flashlight to enjoy life’s darkness.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “FLASH Fiction – Ellen’s Flashlight

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s