I should’ve listened to my instincts.
He didn’t seem like such a weirdo before.
I should have listened to my instincts, as they screamed out their warning through my synapses, as they set my nerves jangling, on-edge.
I caught a whiff of danger, an edge on his breath, something not-quite-right about him.
I’ve always liked the rough-edged rouge, always preferred a bit of trouble to my men.
He drove – I’d had too much to drink as usual.
He drove, and I sat barely conscious in the front seat – I didn’t realise how long it had been.
The sheep’s skull should have been a warning too blatant to ignore.
I managed to run, too late.
The cold caress of morning fog has set in…I’m sure that this is the sheep’s skull that was guarding the driveway.
I hope this is that skull…
Somebody help me.
Just a quick 100(ish) words for Madison Woods Friday Fictioneers, I’m a bit sick this week, so I just kind of hammered this story out without thinking too much about it. *must try to keep writing* Comments and criticisms still welcome, however…