I’ve been MIA and have no good excuse. I actually do but it’s a secret. Enough of that, let’s just get on with it, shall we?
Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:
For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, I have a story to tell.
Here’s my contribution:
Till Death Do Us Part
Wick gathered the necessary: charred bones, tar, pitch, water. Parts when combined produced ink.
There were also variations to the formula, modifications which were designed to achieve desired results. For instance he could substitute water with tears to produce sorrow, or semen for love, or blood for, well, blood.
Of all these Wick had learned.
To complete this enchantment and thus set the snare Wick need only breathe the words of his desire across the drying ink, then deliver his impregnated letter.
He composed his confession of love, and as he did, he whispered of release. And of sweet death.