Monday, December 10, 2012

The Ghost of Winter

Posted by A Great Liar

The rustle of midnight leaves against the winter wind isn’t the only sound outside his cottage in the wild.

Despairing against the liquor bottle fast drying up, he heard the faint footsteps approaching, realizing that the darkness has come for him.

Gripping the sledgehammer in his hand, he waits for that knock on the door.


This post is written for the Best 55 Fictionist Contest, hosted by Sasikumar Raja Blogs at Beginner

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