Flash Fiction

Superstitious

“That was the last time anyone saw her,” Zack said.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Gemma said. “The worst of the worst. That’s not true at all.”

He fought a laugh. “It’s true.” He bit the inside of his cheek and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “She ran into the fog, screaming her damn head off. And that was it. Nothing. They say Death caught her.”

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