Thursday, July 28, 2011

Killing Secrets

The squeaking was faint, but discernable enough to wake the man.  He laid motionless, listening as it grew louder and more confident.  He fought back the emotions trying to rouse his body.  It was not uncommon for strange noises to echo through the walls of the old house, but this was different.  They seemed self aware, like they were trying to avoid detection.  His wife rustled beside him.  He could ignore it no longer. . . .

Check out the rest of my new short story Killing Secrets here

I read Nie