shadows cling to the walls
moving at a snails pace
the sun is falling
down
we sit together in silence
in madness
in the stench of the unknown
cause the shadow of the sun going
down is moving slowly
upon us
her breath like fire on my face
why, why is this happening to us
her eyes like wild men who has seen capture
wet she is wet
her voice
her skin
her hands clinging to me as the sun....
wait!!! she twist her head to face what she thinks is coming
sh......I think someone is coming
and I can see the vein in her neck
and I can feel the shadow coming on me
and I can sense the sun nestled in the earth's womb
I almost pass out from the rushing inside of me
as I sunk my teeth into her veins
tasting Bitter Sweet and Lamb Chops
Upping the game with this one, you should send this one to Donna Burgess for Poe Little Thing when she opens up the submissions again. Keep them coming.
Exceptional...a poetic expression with all the right ingredients...enjoyed this view of thought from the beginning and enjoyed it all the way to the ending...very nicely done...
Amazing tension and timing in this write, Mitzi. You seem so natural in this genre - somehow so "everyday" and yet within that the twist of the shock-horror... Palpable! You build right from the opening lines... could feel the child-like panic rise in me with those run-on words. Even the ending is childlike in perception... yet the observation, the mania, is all too adult, it seems to me. A classy write from an all-class lady. It's sooo good to read you again. And what an awe-inspiring piece! Right for the jugular! LOL K xx
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader)
Reviewed on November 20, 2006
Think I'll forget the chops tonight.
A most clever and enjoyable read..
In the end they'll all be dancin'--all them ones that didn't die.... Dance with me in the shadows amidst the lightning and the thunder, and all that nu-cu-lar debris. See the big bang from the other side, and then open that cellar door. Go down into
The Butcher's Boy
- 2011 Readers Favorite Award Silver Medal Winner in Horror - Fiction
A Paranormal/Chiller by Michael Robb
Thirty-one years ago, Buxly the Butcher went to trial for killing h
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Regis
Ron
Art Sun...
A most clever and enjoyable read..
Love tinka
Carole
Bom Bhole!
Roshan
Fee
Love,
Eileen
Gotta love it !!
You are the master of suspense and the cloaked punch line...heh
Love and Hugs
Peter