• Flash Fiction

    Sanctuary

    Lucy closed her eyes and shuffled over to the old stuffed chair that he had loved and spent most of his last hours. She stared at it sadly. Funerals could be so depressing. Only a few neighbors attended the graveside service. More out of curiosity than sympathy. No flowers, no words of sympathy. Even the vicar seemed lost for words. A plain wooden coffin buried in what would soon be an unmarked grave. Erik and I kept to ourselves. Nosiness and human nature. An annoying fact of life here. Every bone and muscle in her body ached. She gazed down at her gnarly fingers and sighed. How have I gotten…