Flash Fiction Challenge: Scary Story In Three Sentences
Tick-tock, tick-tock, time flies and the words remain unwritten. It's been over a year since I posted to this space, and I have no one to blame but the countless other fuck-knuckles that demand my time. Well, them and the One True King of Fuck-Knucklery, all hairy, arthritic, and twisted into a self-fellating tangle of limbs more appropriate for Hell's own Kama Sutra than this plane of existence; myself. So it pleases me to, after so long, post a mere three sentences in herald of my return. However brief it may be.
“Isn’t it ironic,” he asked his wife as he chewed on the succulent
meat. “How the one thing we hate most in others can be, under the right
circumstances, a thing in which we derive enormous pleasure?”
His wife remained silent, watching him finish his meal, for she had no tongue with which to respond.