The woman motioned me to approach her. I did, “Who are you?”
“You’re not safe here, Flint.” She touched my shoulder. Everything went blank.
I woke up to discover I was wrapped in black fabric and strapped to a metal grate. I couldn’t move. But the grate I was on was moving. Very quickly.
This is the 9th part of the serial story I’m working on for Lisa McCourt Hollar‘s weekly #55WordChallenge flash fiction challenge. Please, go read all the other entries in the challenge this week. It’s flat amazing what gifted writers can say in just 55 words.