This was my entry in the Grey Matter Press flash-fiction horror contest. I’m not very experienced with writing horror stories but I was shocked at how talented the other writers were. I certainly learned a great deal just by reading the other entries.
The guidelines required that your story be exactly 200 words and had to include the following words within the body of the piece: Devour, Yesterday, Moist, Overturned, and Cushion.
My blood tastes like caramel. I assumed it would be acidic and coppery, but when I nicked myself shaving recently, I swallowed a rivet of liquid addiction. I began pouring my blood into the morning coffee, a homemade macciato that rivaled Starbucks. My kids picked up the scent of this ambrosial seductress and began asking questions which led to them cornering me in the bathroom with Bic razors in their fidgety hands. My julienned face revealed the sugary nectar that their blades sought and they shared a bowl of vanilla gelato topped with a smear of daddy’s B positive. They attacked often.
Yesterday, my wife was struggling with her allergies when Abby and Alex caught a whiff of grape taffy. They stormed our bedroom and overturned furniture and their innocence while rooting out their mother and her intoxicating aroma. They yanked her out of the closet and dragged her to the bed. Their agitated teeth found a soft cushion in her bloodshot eyes. Standing behind Abby, my nostrils detected something tropical and ripe: Fresh kiwi. I tugged her shoulder and spun her around. A moist stain of luscious red was blossoming on her white shorts. My tongue was set to devour.
Wisp of Smoke 