Thursday, October 9, 2014

Shouldn't Have Locked You in the Closet (unpublished micro-fiction)

Because a clown swaying in the corner of my bedroom is not a normal occurrence, I pissed myself. Because its body stretched 7 feet high and was so long-boxy it could’ve held the water heater, I screamed out to God. Because it snickered and began to inch its way toward the bed with insect-pin teeth and licorice-wheel eyes spinning, I had a fatal heart attack at the age of twelve: floated toward the light only to realize that the evil clown was my claustrophobic brother getting back at me.

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