“Jack?”
Sweat poured from his face, mingling with the dead pool of blood beneath his hands.
“Are you alright?”
His entire body trembled and shook. The horror in his eyes told the story his lips never would. Every muscle was tense and stiff, like an electric current had been charged continuously through his body.
“Jack, can you hear me?”
His fingernails were splintered and torn, testament to his trying to claw through the crimson lake to the floor underneath. Tears swelled in his eyes and his heart wept.
“Jack? Jack! Can you hear me?” A voice rang nearby.
“I’m not Jack” he told, “And I just killed a man”
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The home of 101 things to do before I die, poems, flash fiction and of course, the Death, Taxes And short stories that make no sense chronologically, or logically for that matter. Much love, come again x
I really hope you just chose the name randomly and didn't think about it. Otherwise i'm slightly worried and will never talk in seminars again. Either way i love you blog x x x x x x x
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