Retread The Path – Microfiction Short Story

Retread The Path

“That’s not mine,” Peter says desperately as he looks around the room in abject horror, pointing nervously towards the bloody knife that Ramon holds on display.

“Then why we’re you holding onto it so tightly when you were discovered in your hidey-hole?”

“B-Because I was FUCKING scared man, a-a-and I needed to defend myself.”

“From who?” Ramon asks with eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

Peter looks around the room once more and loosens his collar, while a sea of sweat cascade down over him. “S-S-Sinatra, t-the dirty b-bastard wanted m-me dead, b-but I wasn’t g-gonna go quietly, n-not while I had s-some fight l-left in me.”

“Is that how Deborah ended up on the wrong end of the knifes blade?”

“I-I-I, I didn’t see her until it w-was too l-late, s-s-she wasn’t s-supposed t-to be there. I-I, I told her to r-run, and t-to keep o-on running u-until sh-she couldn’t run anymore. I-I, I told her to run,” he says as he looks up at Ramon while tears spill from his eyes.”I-I, I never meant to hurt her, I-I thought she was g-gone.”


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Fiction & Ideas

Stories, thoughts, and musings

Only 100 Words

a 100-word story every day

My Vivid Blog

."Vivid" is my handy, all-purpose word, and this is my handy, all-purpose blog.

Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

A dose of fetish. Good friends. An incomparable muse.

Eugi's Causerie

a place to chat

Go Dog Go Café

Where writers gather


free writing prompts for free, and free

Sammi Cox

Author Aspiring

My Random Ramblings

stories, poems and more

Allison Marie Conway

I write about Desire. Sex. Longing. Pain. Darkness. All of it.

Grim's Crypt

Where the dark ones roam.

Poetry by C. Eve

I am the First Eve.

The intricacies of my insanity

where the impossible seems three shorts steps to the left, and one giant leap into insanity...

A writer & her adolescent muse

writing, writers, & worlds (of my own making)

Cyranny's Cove

Refuge of an assumed danophile...

Isabel Caves

Poetry, Fiction & Photography

My Musings

My life; My views!

%d bloggers like this: