By Joshua K. Sapp
Yesterday’s crippled destiny plagued Richard. Was it a man who watched him from the street, or was it a ghost? A spirit conjured by memory and guilt. He crossed the wet street. “No such thing as ghosts.”
Shaking hands found a crumpled Marlboro soft pack, “Hey buddy. You got a light?”
Long, thin fingers produced a battered Zippo. Pale flame lit a hard face, “Sure.”
Richard took a long drag and exhaled. “Do I know you?”
The shadowed lips moved, “No reason you should.”
“Are you following me?”
“I am fate. I follow everyone, but this night we walk together.”
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“Drabbles fascinate me. It is amazing how much story can be packed into one hundred words.” – the writer
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