Foot Steps

Apr 22nd, 2019 by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Becky was halfway across her pottery studio when she heard the deadbolt click. She froze.

She escaped a mugging three months ago, but it cost a prize dish. She broke the pottery piece on his face. Blood gushed everywhere and his screams still haunt her at night. Hours flipping through mug shots at the police station yielded no suspects. That was it. Except she had this eerie feeling she was being followed. A lot. She had been more than careful until now. She didn’t lock the door when she entered the studio. The sound of footsteps came in her direction.

From Guest Contributor NT Franklin

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