Thursday, April 5, 2012

55 - Dead Wrong


Lumbering along
as if there were no connection
between muscles and brain
he stared with unfocused eyes.
Teeth gleaming blood red
and dripping with the pink of gray matter. 
His pallor betrayed him
as he trudged forward
in a jerky motion
toward his prey
who exclaimed,
"Dude. Really?
The costume is great,
but it's Easter."
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This is a Flash Fiction Friday 55
hosted by Mr. Knowitall.
For more 55's pay him a visit -
Mr. Knowitall.
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