by Nissa Harlow She died. But her soul didn’t leave her body like it should have. Maybe it figured the old graveyard, full yet forgotten, was a good place to spend eternity. So it stayed, clothing her bones, keeping the flesh company as time melted it slowly away. The camera lies abandoned at her side, images of headstones captured in pixels within. She didn’t take a photo of the stone that caught her heel, nor the one that now stands guard at her head, its age-blunted corner smeared with blood. When they find her bones, someone will take a picture. It seems fitting. * * * Nissa Harlow lives in British Columbia, Canada where she dreams up strange stories and writes some of them down. Her short fiction has been published in Weird Lit Magazine and 50-Word Stories. You can find her online at nissaharlow.com.
1 Comment
Deb
1/22/2025 10:31:06 am
Oh my gosh!!!! Every single line gave me goosebumps. ❤️it’s a re reader for sure. 🙌🏻
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