by Robert Gryfft
"This is it?" She stopped before the quiet wooden door.
The glittering necklace drew tighter. Enter, it compelled her. Enter that we may consume you, and know mortal flesh once more.
She swayed, spots dancing before her eyes. "I won't-- I can't--"
The thing around her neck constricted until she gasped.
She touched the doorknob.
1 comment:
I think my heart went pitter-patter a little when I read that title. Saddest use of the subjunctive ever. All hail Latin and its wonderful capacity for precise expression.
-Zel
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