 "For
Mary"
(Excerpt)
by David M. Fitzpatrick
Pelson had to live, for Mary. But the
steel chains tightly clamped his wrists and ankles, binding him to the
rock like a helpless dog on a short leash, and the sun roasted his burned,
naked body. But he had bigger problems: the bugs were coming. He could
hear the chitinous clacking as their giant legs scurried across granite
boulders beyond the rim of his open prison.
He rolled his head about as three of the
insectoid monsters, as big as lions, topped the stony ring surrounding the
pit. Their armored bodies gleamed blue-black in the fiery sun.
Basketball-sized compound eyes studied him with orange gleams; ten
hydraulic legs shuffled each bug into position. They were like massive
ant-mantis-beetles, and they were preparing to strike.
Salty sweat was like acid on Pelson’s
sunburned face, and he strained against the chains. Somehow, he had to break
them. For Mary. But who had chained him here? And why?...
* *
* * * * * *
*
As I said, it's tough to excerpt a
630-word flash-fiction piece, but suffice it to say, there's a lot more
here than meets the eye. Pelson may not soon figure out who Mary is, or
why he has to set himself free for Mary, but there's a deeper meaning to
all of this...
To read the whole story, order
Twisted
Tongues #9.
|
It's
difficult to excerpt a 630-word flash-fiction story, but here's a teaser.
This was accepted for Twisted Tongues, a UK magazine that is a POD
through Lulu.com, along with another flash-fiction piece I wrote,
