ME

microterrores

“She appeared, as on previous nights with a disfigured face, cold touch and ice breath. I felt that shook me, sinking into the old chair. He handed me something,barring my hand tightly. This is the sign, “she whispered . I tried to let go, but her skin was becoming faded and dark, mingling with the night … I woke up sitting on the bed, with arms raised and both hands on a frozen fist aprentando that object “.
“The Sign” Published in Microterrores extractDiversidad Literaria 2016
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