Pale and still she lay before him, lashes curling on her youthful cheeks. He stood over her like a coiled spring, gloved hands stretching with anticipation. The knife gleamed, sharp, eager in the light.
This was the moment he savoured – every time. Total control – supreme, paramount power. Then one swift slice across the girl’s throat and the glinting lifeblood spurting out in jets of sweet gratification…
One hour and forty eight minutes later, the surgeon straightened his aching back with a sigh of relief, “Alright, the tumour’s out. Let’s stitch her up.”
- Madhurima Vidyarthi
NOTE: This piece of flash fiction was first published on @madhurimavidyarthi Instagram account on July 20th, 2021.
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