Time again for Friday Fictioneers. A weekly snapshot of mischief and mayhem created by over 100 creative collaborators. A 100 word piece of fiction based on a weekly changing photo prompt. All given shelter under the wide reaching umbrella of Rochelle Wisoff- Fields. Get yourselves over and have a go.
A shimmy of torch light snaked across the field, like an army of tiny fire flies gathering on the horizon. Too dark to see faces, he pictured them well enough; furrowed brows, wide eyes. They’d search all night, they always did.
Teasing his hand across his lips, his tongue came out decadently swirling around a finger. The still fresh blood tasting of salt, lead and innocence, perhaps even a hint of cherry. Picking up his rucksack he looked back at the costume he’d left in the tree, whispering in the darkness,
“Your mother always said I was a wolf in sheep’s clothing”