New flash fiction

The frayed jute rope tightens audibly, digging fiercely into his skin while thin, grey field mice scuttle away with scarce bits of corn from another sparse harvest. He peers out a crack in the battens. Dust and chaff freed from the rafters filter through the late autumn shafts of light. His vision resembles an old black and white television set darkening to a point of light. Here, Kitty … puss puss puss …

“Frank! … Franklin! … ” She calls out of obligation, not worry. Drunk in the barn again, no doubt … … worthless son of …

A thin-ribbed barn cat lazily rubs his hovering boots, missing his scratch behind the ears, not noticing the man’s swollen, purple fingers.
  1. Ooh, you must have an excellent editor. ;)

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