by Mercedes M. Yardley
He said, “I’ll come back tomorrow,” but that wasn’t what he meant at all. He meant, “Why are you so exquisite? Why does my heart twist like this when I look at you? You’re a beautiful creature made out of sweet violets and axe blades. I hear scissors snipping in my ears whenever you speak.” But I’ll come back tomorrow will simply have to do.
Mercedes M. Yardley writes whimsical horror and wears poisonous flowers in her hair. Swing by her online home.