The moonlight showered down upon her skin, making it glow in all the right places. She tried to stay alert; tried to focus on her task.
The leaves rustled, and she couldn’t help but peek. The gravestone remained intact, but seemed to smirk.
Control was key.
A giggle swept through her. The art of control, the art of power – it made her quiver with excitement.
And then there he was.
He stumbled toward her, dazed. And when he approached she saw his eyes had sunken into an abyss. But still, behind them there was a glint of recognition… wasn’t there?
Shyla Fairfax-Owen ©
Beyond the Threshold 
Wow. 💕
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Bags of atmosphere in just a few short lines. Nicely done!
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Thank you! The challenge of micro fiction makes it so much fun to write. I’m glad you enjoyed it 🙂
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I didn’t think anyone could write a piece to match that title, but…
Nice work.
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Haha it’s funny because the title occurred to me some time back. As I was writing this I realized I had finally found something to do with it.
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Glad you waited to confer the title on a worthy piece! I’ve struggled before when I have a brilliant idea and then write an average piece about it – should I hold out for a better attempt?
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I tend to. When I get that feeling about something I’ve written I walk away for a bit. Eventually I force myself to decide exactly what it is that I think is so brilliant and I extract ONLY that, and start fresh with it. Patience usually pays off 😊
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Excellent advice, thank you! Certainly got it spot on here 🙂 it’s tough to be patient with a good ideas, but doing it justice is motivation I suppose…
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Absolutely. That’s what I’ve been learning and working on. The blog is good practice.
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