By Jon Dixon
The skeleton that lives inside me is quite patient. Occasionally, it tests the flesh that shrouds it, and it grins.
In the bedroom mirror, in those long, sore hours between midnight and waking, sleepless, restive, I begin to think my flesh hangs looser than it did when I went to my bed some hours before. My posture slumps. My limbs resemble rubber, soft and pliable.
I shake the feeling, leave the bedroom, open up the bathroom door.
Inside, the gleam of ivory bones is just a pallid glimmer in the dark. A dry and brittle voice says, “Now we can begin.”
Ends with a true “flash”. Superbly written.
Jon – this is a remarkable and imaginative story. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.
Great read, Jon. Well done.
Wow –
Chapeau for a great read… well done…
You’ve left me shivering. Fabulous.