Flash Fiction — The Model

Once she stopped shaking, Sam looked at her phone. Zero Hour being less than twenty minutes away now, her thoughts turned to the person responsible. Oh, Leah. You and your I-know-you'll-do-the-right-thing smile. Smile at this. Sam's boots, socks, pants, sweatshirt, T-shirt, bra, and underwear went into her bag, on the bench opposite the mirror. Seeing … Continue reading Flash Fiction — The Model