Asking a dead friend
'Why do our fingernails grow?'
Chew the consequence.
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More stories from Jonnie Walker and writers in Poets and other communities.
Matinee
A final look at The crowd, beneath the cut of The falling curtain.
By Jonnie Walkerabout a year ago in Poets
An Adventure Through Hell
Emaciated arms covered by the tiniest bit of flesh capture me, holding me close to its decaying form. Gnarled and thin fingers pull my dark hair. Screams of anguish surround me, somehow reverberating from the empty chasm. I punch and watch as bits of grey flesh disintegrate into dust. Scratching at the caverns where its eyes should have been, I could only hope for an end to this hell. The sounds of torment continued, assaulting my ears with one tremendous roar.
By Isabella Rosea day ago in Horror
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