Flash Fiction


bloody-knifeLooks like rain again.

She pauses from her task to look out the kitchen window. Tears distort the view of the clouds.

It’ll rain forever, she fears. It’s an excuse to justify the blade gliding across her arm.

Blood flows.

He has no umbrella, she worries. But he won’t be back this time. Anger fills the void he left behind, but the blood washes away easily in a swirl down the drain. She watches it and her mind reels.

She’s unable to face what she’s becoming. She comes to her senses, reaches for the bandages, and runs out the door.


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