(100-word flash fiction)
Sharp slivers of pain slash into his chest. His breath grows ragged.
He looks sideways at his grandson. The 10-year-old is rapturously immersed in the steeplechase ride.
“Exactly how we felt,” they say, “each time you put a bullet into our chest.”
Despite the pain, he is amazed he is hearing voices above the din.
“You’re going through the stab of death each one of us felt.”
It dawns on him the voices are in his head.
“You’re going to be abjectly helpless.”
The pain reaches a crescendo. The ride, the voices, his heart, all stop at the same time.
Apologies for not responding to your comments on my last post. Work has been busy leading up to Christmas. Thank you Rochelle for yet another excellent prompt for Friday Fictioneers 😊
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