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100 words long. Not a word more, not a word less.
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Weighing Down by Jesse Bradley
Sweat trickles down my forehead, into my eyes. A blur of sun-bleached black crouches in front of me. The pastor grabs my chin, probably to make sure the sweat has blindfolded me. “Hold out your arms and open your hands,” he says. I keep my arms and hands steady as the fuses sizzle. Sparks sting my palms here and there. “Look for his message in and around what’s left of you,” the pastor reminds me. We were just playing, I’ll say when they find us. The pastor’s made sure there’s just enough of my dad’s beer on our breath.
The SHORT TALE 100 – SEPTEMBER 2016