WRITING PROMPT: Eye For An I

drunk-person-on-bench

Prompt: You’ve accidentally killed the Devil. God makes you the new Devil to replace the one you killed.

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Amos had few regrets for taking to the bottle. He literally pissed my life away, but the haunting memories still remained. Sara and Janey. How I yearn for them. How old would Janey have been? How long has it been since I the accident?

Long enough, he concluded. He’d had enough of the cold, the hunger, the panhandling so that he could score another bottle to keep away the shakes. Tonight, he’d end it all—he was hopping back on the wagon. Going cold turkey. Committing suicide.

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FICTION: The Great Machine

FOREWORD: I submitted this piece to a submission call, but it got rejected, so here it is. My blog needed updates anyway.

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Sol was poring over the building plans when the front door flung open. He traced his fingers along floor 48.

“Babe, close the door,” Sol said. “The smog’s getting in.” When no reply came, he looked up to find a tear-stricken Jenn.

“What’s wrong?”

“They did it,” she said between sobs. “They s-stuck me like a pig.”

“What?”

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