Mental Escape as Published in the Isolation Anthology

Warning: Reader Discretion Advised

The story that follows is intense and not for all readers.

I submitted this short story to a Halloween anthology called Isolation. It is a horror anthology, and this is essentially a prisoner of war story. I intentionally don't give any details about the main character, but show the world through their eyes. I added the images for the blog post. They are not in the anthology, but the words are unchanged.

I also intentionally made it so that you'd have to click the link to read it. It's up to you.

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You Left Me

You cried out in the middle of the night. I answered your pleas and helped to the best of my ability.
A few days later, you beg for help once again. I come to your aid and held your hand a second time.
The third time you reached out for help, I reached out and wanted to help, but you ignored me.

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Flash Fiction: Coffee

 

The steaming black liquid flowed into the tall slender vessel.
Nearing the top, the flow was stopped
Cream joined in to create a tan color.
Sweet was added to the party.
A whirlpool was created to blend the trio.
Needy hands grabbed the vessel and proceeded to guzzle the liquid.
Caffeine erased the morning fog and thoughts began to flow.
Words were soon to follow.

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The Apple Flash Fiction

The apple sat alone in the basket, all his friends were gone.

The peach had been soft and nice to lean against.

The apricots were small and fun to hang with.

The other apples had been bigger than him and disappeared quickly.

They had been taken ages ago. The bananas vanished each morning with the sunrise.

Now he sat alone waiting, just waiting for others to arrive or to be selected for a lunch box or a snack.

As the kitchen light dimmed he sat alone just waiting.

Copyright © 2020 Ann Bell Feinstein

The Cry of the Words (Flash Fiction)

The words on the page cried out, each demanding to stay. None wanted to be deleted or changed in anyway. That was not what was going to happen. Changes were coming.

A deft hand was required to cut only the fluff, the tough stuff had to remain. It was the heart of the story.

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