Elegant Decay

My apologies. I’m running short on time this week and, even though I promised fewer hiatuses from The Dark Calling, I’m taking another this week. We’re nearing the end of that tale, and each section takes more time to write. I’ll be back with more of it next week, Vye willing.

This week, I’m reverting back to my structured flash fiction ways, with a post from The Prediction:

100 words maximum (excluding title) of flash fiction or poetry using all of the three words below in the genres of horror, fantasy, science fiction or noir:


Here we go.

elegant decay

Patrick is a patient observer. He rarely touches the corpse.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” he asks his guest. “Such an elegant decay.”

At 16 days in, the bloating is past. The smell, however, is still quite pungent. Flies cluster on his open eyes.

“You’re lucky,” he says, “sharing in these intimate moments.”

His guest mumbles inarticulately. It’s difficult to speak through a gag.

“Till death, they say. For you, a bit beyond.”

He chortles at the crude joke.

Her eyes swell with tears as Patrick pulls one of her husband’s teeth loose. Soon, she will lie there.

But not soon enough.