It was a feeling she had forgotten the taste of, like the sounds of new-fallen rain to the moon. For too long, its name was one with treachery, sickness and the crushing weight of malice. A venomous ale frothing with nails to turn one pale, all wrapped in a veil of pain.
There was no room for such a word anymore, try as it might to wash the tracks away from the ash. Try though it might, this little joy would soon meet the real monsters.
My entry for this week’s Five Sentence Fiction from Lillie McFerrin. The word of challenge was “joy”. And a fitting choice for the holiday season, one would think.
I hope you all enjoy!