Sleep feels like death…
Sleep feels like death and the bed like a coffin. Every night I wake up screaming and my imprint is burnt into the sheets, literally burnt as if someone passed a torch under sheets but they never fully caught fire. I can still taste the smoke on my breath. And for the first time I find myself facing my wife’s side of the bed, her name on my tongue before I remember that I banished her for screwing around behind my back. I can’t imagine why revenge tastes like sulfur matches and smells like charred flesh, until I remember who I made a deal with. The Lightlord speaks in fire.
I’ll get to a review later tonight. In the meantime, more eerie flash fiction. Just to let you know, these pieces of fiction aren’t necessarily in order. I’ll probably arrange them into a full story soon.