I stood with Jerusha on the veranda overlooking the courtyard one evening when my servant approached us.
"The end comes," he said.
As the last word was spoken, he vanished as though he were just a dream, and the warping of reality told me he was never there. The stones of the wall behind me bled the thick, red blood of humans and the wood beneath my feet was covered. Distances between familiar objects seemed to ebb and wax irregularly.
Jerusha's face was twisted and screaming, though a roaring noise drowned all other sound. Her hands clutched her ears.
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99 Words is a pet project I started in 2011 when at college. The idea was that I didn't have time for writing, but still had passing fancies, visions, plot ideas, and the like. Instead of tossing them to the wayside, I came up with a plan to turn those notes into little chunkules of text, each 99 words long. This is section is still updated.