Flash Fiction: Burn

I dreamed I killed myself because I couldn’t find my keys. In hell, the devil kissed me on the cheek and whispered: “You’ve been in hell all your life. Now go back to sleep.” I awoke to the faint stench of brimstone and with a burn on my face. And I couldn’t find my keys.

Not sure exactly where this came from. Kinda reads more like poetry than flash fiction.
And I hate poetry.


  1. nate, October 10, 2007:

    All right. I gotta try it. Coincidentally, BURN is along the lines of my first attempt. I’ll post on the Asylum Walls – Original Fiction instead of here.

    This could get to be fun. I might even try one or two more. Thanks for bringing this topic to my attention.

  2. Loki, October 10, 2007:

    I liked it DI. Then again, I write poetry every now and then. That might be why.

    Anywayz, keep them coming.

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