I murdered my own story. Bludgeoned it with words. My audience disappeared long ago, migrating birds. Already in court: recommended I plead insanity; the judge reprimands me for my profanity. I look inside my coffee cup and glimpse Franz Kafka’s face. From one loon to another, he’d understand my case.
©2017 Charles Harry Mackenzie. All rights reserved.
@miniature-tiger's #fiftyword contest: weekend three theme is 'crime'