
This is the last day of the I'm Hearing Voices blogfest. My flash fiction below is supposed to invoke an emotion. I want you to feel fear.
Once on the main floor, he checked the front door, and found it still locked and bolted. He moved through the living room, past the grand piano, toward a light in the kitchen. He saw Mrs. H. standing with her back to him, making a sandwich. She had on a flimsy white night gown.
“No,” he stated. “I thought I heard a noise so I came up to look.”
“It wasn’t me,” Jordan said. “I just came up the stairs a second before I knocked on the door here, and Rob’s asleep on the bed.”
She set her knife down on the counter. “If it wasn’t you and it wasn’t Rob and it wasn’t me…there’s no one else in the house Jordan,” she said.
Jordan glanced around in the dark, looking a bit uneasy. She did too, moving her eyes from off of him and into the shadows that lay beyond the halo of light emanating from the under cabinet fixtures.Excerpt from SLIPSTREAMHave a great weekend.
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