Fifty Words

Sam writes exactly fifty word stories Monday through Friday.

Nov 11

my archenemy

The fat white flakes made him sleepy and depressed. He longed for the damp darkness of his room, the tall walls, his lamp with sickly light. While he snored fitfully, his archenemy drew strength from the blank blankets of wetness, looked out over trackless miles of it and laughed triumphantly.


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