Fiction

Lazy Sally

They’re back.

If you’ve not read the first story about Glenn and Jimmy, check out “Martial Bliss” by clicking here.

This is one of my favorite kinds of horror. It’s truly horrific, the things these men do. They’re most definitely bad men. Vile. Evil. Without redemption. Linking their lack of character to a fundamental state of ignorance is both gratifying and fun.

For what is Evil if not ignorance of the overwhelming power of all things good?

Whoa! I went all deep. Sorry to slip into philosophy on a Friday afternoon. My bad.

(I bet you’ll recover just fine.)

The prompt for this morbid little thing comes from The Prediction:

100 words maximum, excluding the title, of flash fiction or poetry using all of the three words above (‘bramble’, ‘drift’, and ‘sally’) in the genres of horror, fantasy or science fiction.

lazy sally

“She was a lazy Sally.”

“Lazy Susan, you mean.”

“Her name was Sally,” Jimmy said.

“You’re an idiot.”

Jimmy ignored him, pushing his way through the bramble patch to the spot.

“Anyway,” Glenn continued, “I thought you was done with this.”

“I swear, I didn’t mean to.”

She was half buried in a snow drift, the left side of her face nothing but shards of bone.

“What, like you slipped and fell on her with a chainsaw?”

“Damn it, G. She was fucking lazy. I can’t abide that. She wouldn’t even make me toast.”

“Well, man’s gotta have toast.”