Jason poured himself another glass of Burgundy and tried to flush Jenna from his thoughts. The bloated, red moon glared at him from the claret coloured sky as he headed towards oblivion like dirty dishwater down a plughole.
And then, the sea of sleep enfolded him.
Dark dreams and worse memories lapped at the shore of his slumber until he awoke, drowning in crimson. Slices of sunlight cut through the blinds and slashed across his eyes, stinging like a knife blade.
Outside, seagulls screeched and cackled through the roaring wind as Jason closed his eyes and dissolved back into the night, resolving to never again drink red wine in bed.
The end.
---
Paul D. Brazill was born in England and is on the lam in Poland. He has had stories in A Twist Of Noir, Powder Burn Flash, Beat To A Pulp, Thrillers Killers n Chillers, The Flash Fiction Offensive, Shoots & Vines, Six Sentences and Flashshots. His print published work is in the book Six Sentences Volume Two and the Finnish magazine Ässä.(ACE). He can be found stalking ‘you would say that, wouldn’t you?’ http://pauldbrazill.blogspot.com/ and Paul D Brazill http://pdbrazill.blogspot.com/
13 comments:
That's why I only smoke crack in bed, Paul.
Good job on this one Paul. Loved the dishwater simile. For me, it would be 'resolving to never again drink Jack Daniels in bed.'
Punchy!
Beautiful imagery for such a short story. Six gorgeous sentences. Thanks for another great read, Paul.
-Ben Sobieck
Thanks all.
Tight piece, Paul. That burgundy's a bitch.
Pure poetry, Mr. Brazill.
Ha. I've done this before, but not in many moons.
I too named a character after our man in France. I used his surname though.
Nice one, Paul!
mine wasn't wine, it was tequila and i woke up surrounded by....cold french fries.
don't ask, it's best.
tops!
Superb, Paul--really superb!
Thanks everyone.
Paul, this is excellnt poetry. Or a great six.
Great job.
Jeanette Cheezum
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