Melina Gunnett

November 24, 2011

Mortar of Life

Filed under: Stories — Tags: , , — Melina Gunnett @ 1:00 AM

The door closed.  She had to hurry. If he reached her before she was ready, she was dead.
Pestle in hand she began to grind.

The stairs creaked.  This had to work, she was out of options. She heard his footsteps in the hall.
Seconds left, she carefully spooned the fine powder into her gloved hand.

Strength, power, evil radiated from him as he opened her door.  She was out of time.
She raised her hand and blew.  The fine powder engulfed him. He began to scream.

When the dust settled he was there.  Brad, just Brad.  She was safe.


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