Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Elizabeth H. Smith @bethsmithwrites @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Seed of Fruition
by Elizabeth H. Smith

Unnoticed and unseen, the small fruit flourished. Its seed had been planted from another place, somewhere alien to its new environment. With each night it grew; and each day, it lived in fear of the sounds created by life around it. The invasive vegetation could hear the thump of machines over the fragile beat of tiny hearts nesting within. But untouched it remained, and nearly every bulb’s strength held to the end. From the weight pulling on its stalks, it knew the time would be soon. The fruit would fully mature, as would the many ravenous fetal beings waiting inside.
Fiction © Copyright Elizabeth H. Smith
Image courtesy of Christina Sng
line_separator2

More About Elizabeth H. Smith:
Elizabeth H. Smith is a storyteller who writes while trying to keep her cat, Luna off the keyboard. The musical group, Rasputina is her muse. She was born in the state of New York and would never feel at home anywhere else.

line_separator2

Through Clouded Eyes: A Zombie’s Point of View

Through Clouded Eyes: A Zombie’s Point of View: a collection of twelve stories told from the Zombie’s perspective.

They’re shambling toward you, feet dragging on the broken roadway. Arms outstretched, faces slack, they move as if they’re tracking your scent on the wind. You want to run, but you know there’s nowhere to hide.

Aware of their insatiable hunger, fear paralyzes you. These things were once human, people someone loved. Is there anything left inside them – some sliver of humanity that may save you from this nightmare? Your mind doesn’t want to accept the inevitable, a single thought consumes you: what are they thinking?

With your chance of escape dwindling, you snap out of it and run like hell knowing there is little to no hope; fate is coming for you. Soon you will see what they see Through Clouded Eyes…

Featuring stories from Maynard Blackoak, Calvin Demmer, Paul M. Feeney, Stacy Fileccia, Trevor Firetog, DH Hanni, Shannon Lawrence, Josh MacLeod, Zachary O’Shea, Neal Privett, Mark Steinwachs, and Alex Woolf

Available on Amazon!

line_separator2

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author R.A. Clarke @RAClarkeWrites @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_03_June2021The Plateau
by R.A. Clarke

The mist moved in fast, catching me off guard. I was foraging for berries to fill my aching stomach when I noticed a hint of haze. It had been resorting to drastic measures lately, rolling low to the ground, sneaking in while I was distracted.
I need to reach my camp. It’s the only place I’ll be safe. 
None of my shipmates had believed me when I said the fog was sentient. It seemed to track and anticipate our moves, stalking like a hungry lion. Of course, our starvation made the hunt easier. After several days on this barren island, our limbs and minds grew sluggish. That’s when it first came, appearing out of nowhere. It began consuming us one by one. Bodies left behind, ravaged. 
I sprinted up the well-worn path leading up the hill. Exotic foliage whipped against my legs as I jumped craggy rocks and gnarly roots. Huffing for breath, my arms and legs pumped, pushing to keep up the pace. I couldn’t afford to slow down.
Just fifty more feet and I’d be there. I spied the tip of my roughly constricted shelter, smoke wafting from the fire as it dried ragged cuts of fleshy meat. Perched atop a solid rock plateau at the top of the hill, this camp had become my fortress. There, the mist could invade and slather me with evil whispers, yet could never grasp me.
For weeks I’d been evading its clutches. Staying careful was key. Planning and outwitting. I left camp to forage at random intervals. Left decoys behind to trick it. Threaded my clothes with grasses and other camouflage. And with each failed attempt to catch me, the mist’s aggression increased. Whispers grew into roars.
I passed the spot where Tony breathed his last breath. A weight settled in my gut, memories flooding in. I recalled how the mist caught us in the open early on. We’d stumbled upon the plateau by sheer accident, only moments before the mist enveloped us, yet we didn’t die. The truth came as a revelation. The fog didn’t kill on contact, as previously believed. 
No, it served as a puppet master. 
Swiftly, we set up a camp, and for a time, lived together as partners. Tony had been a good friend. Perhaps more than that—once, but… it was only a matter of time before the mist killed him, too. I couldn’t let that happen. He was too valuable. With food stores running low, it was either him or me. I made sure his death was quick. Humane. 
Sometimes I wondered if he would’ve killed me if given a chance. The fact that he didn’t try to fight back that day kept bothering me, gnawing at my insides, but not enough to stop chewing.
Blinking hard, I refocused on the plateau.
Something about that rock kept the puppets at bay. They were insidious creatures who snarled and snapped, salivating over their prey at a distance. Sometimes I walked to the edge to watch them writhe in the soil. Feral and slithering, their silver scaled bodies appeared ghostly within the ashen fog. A crop of ravenous poltergeists tethered to this forsaken island, both revived and compelled by a murderous mist. Their eyes haunted my dreams.
When I began to recognize faces—their twisted features disturbingly familiar, I worried I might be going crazy. Tony and I had killed some of these people ourselves, harvesting them in brazen competition with the mist. Those faces should not belong to the fog. Yet they did. That’s when I realized the mist collected souls. Reaped, repurposed, and then unleashed. 
A wall of white rose behind my camp, looming ominously. Sneering at me.
“I’m too late.” It would hit me before I reached the rock. I’d be vulnerable on the soil. My steps faltered. Stumbling, my shoulder crashed into the earth, berries scattering down the slope. The ground already trembled in anticipation—puppets stirring below, waiting for their show to start.
Scrambling back to my feet, I kept running. With every stride, I regretted ever going on vacation. I cursed the half-price excursion that stranded me here, and the wretched captain who’d promised this beach would be heavenly.  
Only twenty more steps. I can make it.
However, the mist disagreed. It swept through my camp like a tsunami, surging to overtake me. The earth quaked beneath my feet as I charged forward. Every inch of ground I gained now was integral. If I could get onto that rock quickly, I still stood a chance. Maybe.
Seconds later, the cloud blanketed my body, swirling particles of whitewashed murk so thick I could barely see. Tripping over a shrub, I lurched. The sound of crumbling earth raged in my ears. Soil collapsed into a hole in front of me, and I dodged left. A snakish ghost with Jessica’s eyes lashed out. She’d been my very first kill, the weakest. But not anymore. I winced as the electric burn of her teeth grazed my calf. 
I can’t be far now.
Another hole, another spectre. Dave this time, missing an eye just like the moment he’d died. I could still taste the vitreous fluid on my tongue, feel the crisp pop as the orb crunched between my teeth. He’d sustained Tony and I for weeks. 
Deeking right and left, I narrowly evaded fatal bites. What would happen to me if I died? Would I become one of them too? Digested and regurgitated as one of the mist’s legion?
Mercifully, the plateau’s rocky ledge revealed itself several feet ahead. A shout ripped from my lungs, dripping with relief. I’d won another day to survive. To kill the captain and escape when the next shipload of gullible tourists came in. I clung to the belief that they’d come.
Hair prickled on my arms. The mist whispered in my ear, promising to devour me.
“Fuck you!” I roared back. Distracted, I didn’t notice the soil crumbling until it was too late. Barely two steps from the rock, my body dropped suddenly, gravity pulling me down.
Dark, fragmented earth swallowed me whole, muffling my screams. Then my body jolted as an iron grip clasped beneath my jaw, squeezing. One of the mist’s hoary creatures lifted me from its tunnel, holding me close. Feet dangling, gasping for breath, I gaped at the monster.
A maw of sizzling fishbone teeth smiled back. 
Those eyes… 
Tony’s silver tongue licked my cheek, tracing a line down my jaw. Then lower down my neck, leaving hot saliva in its wake. In the next moment, my airway closed. I couldn’t even cry out as an electric pain shredded my flesh.
The mist whispered in my ear as Tony secured his revenge for my betrayal.
“Got you.”
Fiction © Copyright R,A. Clarke
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

line_separator2

About author R.A. Clarke:

Rachael Clarke author pic

R.A. Clarke lives with her husband and two children in Portage la Prairie, MB. She enjoys writing multi-genre short fiction, and is currently working on a novel. She’s won the Writer’s Games and Writers Weekly international short story competitions, and was a finalist for the 2021 Futurescapes Award. Her stories have been published by Polar Borealis Magazine, Jolly

Horror Press, and Sirens Call Publications, among others. R.A. also writes/illustrates children’s books as Rachael Clarke. Her debut chapter book The Big Ol’ Bike (for ages 7-10) is available on Amazon!

line_separator2

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Asena Lourenco @ElaLourenco @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_02_OPTION_June2021Photoshoot
by Asena Lourenco

The crisp breeze whispered menacingly in her ear,
As the blue ringlets curled into the shore,
The flicker of a hundred flashes,
Seemed to be grow to be more,
Hollers and screams drowned out the seagulls
That were battling to be heard,
But soon it seemed that all came to a stop,
At the mention of a single word,
The sing-song melody of the neighbouring sea,
Seemed to also halt in shock,
As children stopped their games and play,
That the teenagers stood and mocked,
A trickle of unfamiliar liquid,
Appeared at the foot of the sea’s unwelcome door,
As the red pigment of her swimsuit,
Became a deep crimson that she wore.
Fiction © Copyright Asena Lourenco
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.

line_separator2

More about Asena Lourenco:

Asena Lourenco is 14 years old. She loves reading, playing Scottish traditional fiddle music on her violin, dancing, and martial arts as well as writing her own stories.

She would like to be a teacher and writer when she grows up. She also loves cats and babies!

line_separator2

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Christina Sng @ChristinaSng @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Image_01_June2021Transformations
by Christina Sng

The plants grew rapidly,
Overnight, across cities.
They engulfed the world
While we were sleeping.
*
We were on a red-eye
When we heard the news.
I looked out our window
And there—a blanket of green
Shrouding our streets,
Suffocating everything
Trapped under its roots,
Vines, and leaves.
Our pilot could not land
So we turned to the desert,
Clasping each other in grief,
Wondering if those we loved
Could have survived,
Safe inside a place with supplies
Or did the green extend
Inside those spaces too,
Leaving them with
No air to breathe?
We tried not to think about it
But focused instead
On the expanse of sand beneath,
The curve of its dunes,
Hypnotizing us
With its smoothness
As if everything would be alright
Even though, deep down I knew,
Without plant life,
We were doomed.
We flew over cities
Completely green,
Tendrils snaking outwards
Across the desert—
Racing like streaks across
Watercolor paper,
Leaving us with only one place
Left to go.
*
We landed on the warship,
Grateful to be on ground again.
They told us all landmasses
Were covered in foliage
And everyone we knew
Was likely dead.
Twenty days later, I stood
With my children on the deck,
Watching the green landmass
Before us as we circled to observe.
The air never felt cooler or fresher,
The sky never as clear or blue.
“What happened?”
I asked one of the officers.
“One of our botanists learned
To communicate with the plants.
She asked them,
‘How can we mend the Earth?’
This was their response.”
She paused.
“Humanity tried but failed.
It was their turn now and they did it,
At a great cost to us.
But they healed the Earth.”
We stood and waited silently
For the world to reset.
Fiction © Copyright Christina Sng
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.

line_separator2

More from Christina Sng:

A Collection of Nightmares

Hold your screams and enter a world of seasonal creatures, dreams of bones, and confessions modeled from open eyes and endless insomnia. Christina Sng’s A Collection of Nightmares is a poetic feast of sleeplessness and shadows, an exquisite exhibition of fear and things better left unsaid. Here are ramblings at the end of the world and a path that leads to a thousand paper cuts at the hands of a skin carver. There are crawlspace whispers, and fresh sheets gently washed with sacrifice and poison, and if you’re careful in this ghost month, these poems will call upon the succubus to tend to your flesh wounds and scars.
These nightmares are sweeping fantasies that electrocute the senses as much as they dull the ache of loneliness by showing you what’s hiding under your bed, in the back of your closet, and inside your head. Sng’s poems dissect and flower, her autopsies are delicate blooms dressed with blood and syntax. Her words are charcoal and cotton, safe yet dressed in an executioner’s garb.
Dream carefully.
You’ve already made your bed.
The nightmares you have now will not be kind.
And you have no one to blame but yourself.

Available on Amazon!

line_separator2

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Nina D’Arcangela @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Lush Fruit
by Nina D’Arcangela

“Gather only the ones that are near to bursting. They grow on the south side of the cliff, their hue that of the melon’s meat. Bring me only what I ask, boy, the ripest. An extra shilling in it should you be back before the sun crests the sky.” Off the child went as the old crone began collecting the necessary herbs to hide the sweet taste.

Several hours later, the boy burst through the doorway, his speed so quick, the weathered skins that served as a barrier flapped in his wake. The gwrach turned from her steeping brew. The child’s face was rouged the hue of dark jostaberry; not a healthy shade to say the least. He panted and gasped, berries coddled in his filthy tunic. He held the thread-bare garment gently in yellow stained fingers. She watched for a moment, then pointed to the oaken table. The boy stumbled to it and unburdened himself of his precious load. As his pallor shifted from crimson to deep purple, she asked if he’d eaten the fruit. As he began to deny it, his knees crippled collapsing him to the dirt floor. She hobbled over with walking stick in hand, poked his distended gut, and watched as juice flowed from the cracks between his teeth. “Foolish,” she muttered. The witch leaned heavily on the staff as she knelt to collect the liquid that flowed from the corner of his mouth as she pressed upon his stomach. The boy twitched, lost to the nightmare world the engorged pods brought on. Finished, she tossed two shillings on his hitching chest, not as payment for the errand, but to pay the man that would dispose of his remains.

Fiction © Copyright Nina D’Arcangela
Image courtesy of Pixabay
line_separator2

More from Nina D’Arcangela:

Mental Ward: EXPERIMENTS

A dank basement, shadow filled hallways, the deep echo of a metal latch being thrown while faint screams are heard… These are the things you might experience in a place where the unspeakable happens, where conscientious action and moral turpitude turn a blind eye in the interest of advancing one’s own personal pursuits in the most deranged and unjustifiable manner. The type of place where power corrupts, and depravity runs rampant among those imbued with it. A place where the unfortunate are abandoned to the devices of those who convince themselves their actions are in the best interest of science.

Mental Ward: Experiments is a collection of ten short stories that demonstrate the worst of humanity’s ambition in the interest of ‘civilized’ advancement. Step into a world where sanity is left behind, and horror is what the doctor ordered!

Available on Amazon!

line_separator2

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author K. Soriano @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_03_June2021

Exiled Vengeance
by K. Soriano

After being accused of practicing witchcraft, Selene was exiled from the village and promised the villagers they would soon regret their choice. 
The villagers of Wendsly were afraid, not knowing what Selene was fully capable of, so they brought in a prophet from a distant village.
Upon entering her tiny hut, the prophet was overwhelmed by visions of what was to become of these people. The premonition proved too strong—too powerful—it made the old prophet weak. 
He tried to warn the townsfolk, but all he could say was, “thick fog,” before his untimely demise. 
Fear began to grow through the village. What else was in this premonition to cause the prophet’s death?
Taking shelter in their homes, they barricaded the doors and shuttered the windows. If a thick fog was to come through Wendsly, they were going to make sure they’d be safe.
Selene was always quite crafty. She expected this reaction. She also knew the residents would call on a prophet. She cursed her old hut, a hex that caused that vision to be his last. 
As days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, even the most devout villagers doubted the prophet’s vision and began to come out of hiding. They’d been running low on food, and the men needed to hunt more than believe. 
Just as the villagers let down their guard and no longer feared Selene’s wrath, as she planned, a thick fog rolled in from the mountains. 
Chaos ensued, not knowing what this veil contained. People trampled relatives to get back inside their homes—unaware that would not protect them. 
As the vapor reached Wendsly, the villagers began choking. 
This was no ordinary fog. Selene had unleashed a poisonous mist strong enough to wipe the village from existence. 
While the people of Wendsly died, Selene watched through her cauldron with utter joy. 
“I warned you,” she said aloud, a sinister smile twisting her face.
Fiction © Copyright K. Soriano
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

More from author K. Soriano:

sllah


Surviving Love
, Life & Her

Surviving life on your own is challenging enough. Include love and heartbreak, and it becomes agony. When you think life couldn’t be any crueler, life threw her back into his life; Unless, she never really left to begin with…

 Available on Amazon!  

 

line_separator2

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Linda Lee Rice @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_02_OPTION_June2021The Man Upon the Sand
by Linda Lee Rice

I found him washed up on this very beach during the full moon, barely alive and sprawled out on the sand. I took him back to my small cottage, washed him off and cared for him until he regained consciousness. He seemed to not know where he was, how he got here or even his name. I decided to call him Marino, which is Latin for “of the sea.”
He was a handsome man, the color of the brown sand with piercing blue eyes of the ocean. He stood about six foot five, well-muscled, but with curiously webbed fingers and toes. His voice was like the waves and the sea, hypnotic and enticing.
Before long, we shared a bed, this lover and me. Long sultry nights and sun kissed days passed leisurely. Privacy we had because there was no one on this side of the island but me. But when the full moon rose and the tides were at its peak, my beloved left my side.
I watched him as he slipped into the ocean and with a flip of his tail, he was gone. But now I carry his child, I wait for the next full moon as I feel the child moving too soon. I wonder and I’m afraid, what do I have inside of me?
Fiction © Copyright Linda Lee Rice.
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
line_separator2

More about Linda Lee Rice:

me in burgandy hat2

Linda Lee Rice aka Ruzicka has poetry published in Twilight Times, Dark Krypt, Fables, Descending Darkness, Writing Village, Spine, and Page, Muses Gallery, Bloodbond, Lycan Valley Press Publishers, Alban Lake, Highland Park Poetry, Rosette Maleficarum, The Siren’s Call, Edify Fiction and the June Cotner anthology, “House Blessings” and “Garden Blessings

She has short stories published in The Grit, and Reminisce, Haunted Encounters: Friends and Family, FrostFire Worlds. Plus, a personal essay at Mamalode. She also has various articles and blogs published online as a freelance writer.

line_separator2

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Alex Grehy @indigodreamers @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_01_June2021

By the Beautiful Blue Danube
by Alex Grehy

How they danced, barefoot, free, faith in peace, trusting fate.
Between wars, twenties roared, so they waltzed, life was good.
How they died, barefoot, cold, peace was near, so was hate.
Sands shifted, conflict loomed. Were they safe? Should they wait?
Changing world, building doubts, still they hoped, knocked on wood.
How they danced, barefoot, free, faith in peace, trusting fate.

Friends became enemies, wolves disguised, fascist states,
Prejudice, spite, greed, stole away their livelihoods
How they died, barefoot, cold, peace was near, so was hate

Warning bells went unheard, truths told did not conflate,
Labelled, marked, villified, fear stalked their neighbourhoods
How they danced, barefoot, free, faith in peace, trusting fate.
Soldiers shout, “Get in line, take off shoes, stand up straight!”
Rifles fire, red Danube, corpses float, dire driftwood.
How they died, barefoot, cold, peace was near, so was hate
Iron shoes grasp their ghosts, proof that time can’t abate,
They plead, down the years, “Remember us, if you would,
How we danced, barefoot, free, faith in peace, trusting fate,
How we died, barefoot, cold, peace was near, so was hate.”
Fiction © Copyright Alex Grehy
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

More from author Alex Grehy:

147443997_865719290883677_3441953034998826390_n

After a lifetime of writing technical non-fiction, Alex Grey is fulfilling her dream of writing poems and stories that engage the reader’s emotions. Her work has been featured by a wide range of publications including Siren’s Call, Raconteur, Bookends Review, and Toasted Cheese. One of her comic poems is also available via a worldwide network of public fiction dispensers managed by French publisher, Short Edition. Her ingredients for contentment are narrow boating, greyhounds, singing and chocolate. It is a sweet life, yet Alex’ original view of the world has led to her best friend to say ‘For someone so lovely, you’re very twisted!

Please click here to discover more!   

line_separator2

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Ela Lourenco @ElaLourenco @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_03_June2021The Coming
by Ela Lourenco

Unseen for many a moon
It is upon us once again
Fog, mist… it has many names
Yet none know what it truly is.
No warning, no way to predict
Its foreboding coming
Even the sun runs away terrified
Of this looming, descending beast
Of dank grey cloud of death
Suspending the world between night and day
As it rampages its way across the land
Devouring all the souls in its path
We run, we hide and bide our time
Knowing that eventually we too will die…
Fiction © Copyright Ela Lourenco
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.
line_separator2

More from Ela Lourenco:

awakeningDragon Born: Book Three
Awakening

The Royal tournament, the Karnac, is fully underway. But there is deception and betrayal at every turn. Unseen dark forces are at play, both within the school grounds and out with. Even the Gods are unable to help when a new threat looms over them all.The very existence of Azmantium depends on Lara fully becoming the Child of Fire and casting aside the Shadows lurking in every corner of her beloved planet.Can she overcome the challenges that await? Will the Shadows cover the world in darkness? Only Lara and her friends can change the fate of Azmantium.

Available on Amazon!

line_separator2

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Angela Yuriko Smith @AngelaYSmith @darc_nina #LoH

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_02_OPTION_June2021

Hearts for a Heart
by Angela Yuriko Smith

She beat the water with her fists, enraged—in hate.
She was looking for mermaids. Make them cry. Crush their lies
… they stole my Prince Charming.
Conniving, fishy girls with bare breasts and damp skin
had lured him to the drowning deep—a forever sleep
… but he went willingly.
Like a dog in heat, he ran off without looking.
A vacant pretty boy, just a toy to pass the time
… he isn’t worth the tears.
But she weeps, just the same. He was a fling, but her
fling. A sweet thing she imagined sharing tomorrows
… now he was yesterday.
The mermaids would pay in sushi and sashimi
bleeding, salty flesh flayed in the raw sand by her hand
… a feast for hungry crabs.
She waits patiently for the party girls to show
and they always do, seeking new toys to take and break
… hearts for a heart is fair.
Fiction © Copyright Angela Yuriko Smith
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.

line_separator2

More from Angela Yuriko Smith:

Angela Yuriko Smith is an American poet, author and co-publisher of Space and Time magazine, a publication that has been printing speculative fiction, art and poetry since 1966. Together we build a poem as a community each month. Visit “Exquisite Corpse” at SpaceandTime.net to submit.

Catch up with Angela here!

line_separator2

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments