.JPG)
The bus driver looked back at Tim.
“Bad dreams?”
Crushed robin’s eggs and smeared embryonic yolk. That’s all Tim saw. He frowned.
“It’s rush-hour. Where is everyone?”
The driver grinned a baleful grin. “Got off at the good stops. But we’re going to the end. Didn’t you know? You’re dead. Had a heart attack six stops back.”
“Heart attack?”
“Quite painless. Not fair, really. You should have left that bird’s nest alone.”
“Bird’s nest?” At a friend’s dare, Tim had flattened the tiny blue eggs beneath his shoe. “I was ten!”
“Old enough.”
Flame licked at the windows.
---
More bioflash than you can shake a stick at found here!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
I just came upon your site. I liked on it from the Betty Lambert site. I will read more when I am not working. I see you have a writing link to the Surrey Writer's Conference. My friend went last year and is planning on attending again this year. I just proofed his manuscript. He got a lot out of it and enjoyed it. Anyways, I'm working nights so I will read and comment on your story later (as long as Microsoft doesn't kill my computer again).
ReplyDelete