(PHOTO CREDIT: Nathan Sowers)
Staggering out the cabin, drenched in sweat and blood, she took huge puffs of breath. Heaving and gasping for fresh air, she felt the welts and abrasions on her neck with her bloodied hands.
The handle of the knife which she had employed to save herself from the clutches of her psychotic husband had created deep indentations on her bruised palm. Turning back to make sure that neither he nor his now probably active apparition was pursuing her, she hastened her way through the grassy path.
She accidentally knocked down a mirror from a picnic table reflecting the ill fated cabin.
(WORD COUNT: 100)
This story was written as part of the FRIDAY FICTIONEERS challenge, more about which may be found HERE
The credit for the breathtaking photograph goes to Nathan Sowers