Monday, March 30, 2015

Bullet of Prose #10 from BAD THOUGHTS

Shannon opened his eyes, cold sweat running down his back. For a brief heartbeat he had smelled that sickly pungent odor again. For that same brief heartbeat he had a vague image of the person who had been hiding in Janice Rowley’s car. An image of someone large, of diseased flesh, and of evil. He couldn’t hold on to it, though. It slipped away into the ether.

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