Writing today, and reading on Friday, I offer you a simple little amuse bouche, best served cold.
Join in on Friday Fictioneers, a challenge to write a 100 word story based on a photo prompt.
My entry today is simple but chilling.
The wind whistles vicious laughter through the icy caverns.
I’ve clawed my hands raw digging for roots — and sucked the warm salty blood from my fingers, which only makes me hungrier.
Sven sees me looking at him, the same way I’ve caught him looking at me.
We wait for Spring, we wait for the thaw, we each wait for the other to die.
It’s the only way either of us is going to taste fresh meat.
One of these nights, I’m going to hurry the process along.
Spring is a long way away, and I am so very hungry.