I'm considering having a weekly "chilling flash fiction post for the week." It will be a quick read that, hopefully, says it all. I may save Fridays for this. What do you think?
There was no time to react. Hitting the brakes hard, the car slid and squealed to a stop. Feeling the bump and hearing the sound of the tricycle's crushing metal was both deafening and terrifying. Subconsciously not wanting to view the horrifying sight, bitterly welcome tears fully aid and easily allowed avoidance.
Thinking back, while in this most serene and saddening place, wonderful bathing sunshine will not eliminate the sorrow. Surrounded by black suits and dresses and a cross, tears continue to fall all around in every direction. The red rose I hold dear, although sweet, is pungently rotten and I silently beg for exchange.
Kind of makes you want to drive a little slower doesn't it?