The soft glow of the girl's cellphone cast an unearthly glow in the otherwise dark room, throwing angular shadows onto the hollow cheeks of her gaunt face. The fluorescent white effectively blinded her to the world beyond the screen -- but that was the point, really.
As she did every night, she stared and stared until her head lolled back and her eyes flickered shut. Until the phone fell from her shaking fingers, flopping down on the bed to display the fulgent image of a crucifix.
The beam strained upwards, stabbing through the darkness and illuminating a single sharp-toothed smile.
YOU ARE READING
BLINK AND YOU'LL MISS IT - Flash Fiction
Short StoryThe result of twitching fingers, too much caffeine, and a crippling fear of commitment.
