Allen the Ferocious winced as hot wax dribbled down his fingers. He switched hands and proceeded with the chant, but the wax soon oozed down his other hand, onto his wrist. The shop girl never said anything about this, only that black candles were super sexy. And he believed her.
He jumped when wax landed on his toes, bumping the offering table. A chicken’s foot rolled off.
“It’s fine,” he reassured himself. “No one sees this part.” He bent to pick it up, and the candle went out.
In darkness he knelt, searching for the chicken’s foot. He refused to cry.
3 comments:
Love these.
Keep 'em coming.
Love these.
Keep 'em coming.
Drop Gallow you need to send some. I think it's a family obligation.
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