Every Breath You Take, I’ll Be Watching You

Jeff was rowing his boat in a moss-draped swamp on a cloudy night when a glow through the cypress trees made his nape sting.  He pulled his oars to drift. Mosquitoes whined.

Her luminous gown skimmed the water’s surface. She stretched her mouth wide. Her chest rose, and a roaring wind rushed past as she drew a colossal breath. She locked her elbows to her sides, flexed, and issued hell’s agony.  A spine-jarring shriek.

Waves tossed Jeff’s craft. He clamped his ears, huddled in the bilge, and pleaded for the banshee’s scream to cease.

Maybe not every breath.


Flash Fiction Foray: 100 word-stories

music prompt: Chase Holfelder’s cover of Every Breath You Take