by S.E.E. Bacher

Her eyes widened, and her thoughts disappeared. She grabbed the sleeve of his shirt screaming look what you’ve done. She washes the murky blood from the tips of her fingers, singing. Her breath falls heavy and his eyes fall short. They lay now. Her eyes shut.


S.E.E. Bacher is a young writer from Pittsburgh.


Bob Jacobs said...

That's quite an image you've created there, S. Using suggestion and allowing the reader's mind to fill in the blanks. Nicely done.

Ryan said...

I don't understand what happened. I am not smart enough to fill in the blanks, apparently. Why is she singing while washing blood off her fingertips. I'm lost.