Random Snippet

Every once in a while, my mind wants to produce a snippet -- a short piece of fiction which typically captures a mood. Today, this came tumbling out through my keyboard:



The tumbler rolled himself, a brightly colored ball of human contortion, from across the room. Directly in front of me, he sprang to his feet, a living jack-in-the-box, hands extended in upturned fists. I gazed at him quizzically; his lidless eyes and his forced smile were accentuated by his face paint, both threatening and tempting me. A slow tilted incline of his head urged me to look at his hands. I did. The left opened, slowly, to reveal the remains of a large spider, crushed, sticky and sweaty. As the fingers of the right hand began to loosen, I realized what must be inside. I turned; I ran; I screamed.

I don't think I made it to the door before I died.



Don't worry, not every snippet is quite so dark.

Have a great weekend.

[Originally published 7/13/07]