Flash-Fiction usualy ends abruptly and it leaves questions, kind of like the end of inseption. Damn it was a good movie.
This is my second Flash-Fiction.
Leaving
It was past midnight. He was late. He always was.
I heard footsteps.
'Do you have it?'
'No.'
'What?'
'I'm out.'
I got up and left.
His breathing changed.
I was at the door.
'You don't just "leave"'
'Watch me.'
I was out the door.
I was going to pay.
YOU ARE READING
Think about it
PoetryIt makes absolutely no sense. It isn't a story, It has no plot. Its a poem, its a thought its a short story or a scene. It could be anything.
