Sunday, September 16, 2012

The Spirit Of Futility

Anastasja floated through the foggy wetness of the forest with a growing sense of futility. Stopping near a jumble of mossy rocks and the sagging husk of an old tree, she uttered an ethereal sigh. She’d been in this very spot only a short time ago. She was sure of that…or was she?

With a spectral shrug she admitted the woods were every bit as daunting to navigate as when she’d still been among the living.
How was she to enjoy eternal rest if she couldn’t even tell her parents where the bad man had left her cold, lifeless body?

This story was written for the 100 Words Of Horror flash fiction contest being hosted by my wife Lisa  on the website. 

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