As in Life

In my little corner of Hell, they’ve strapped me to an old and uncomfortable, wooden chair. The restraints have torn through my skin to the bone, and my flesh is now falling away in a spreading green rot. Now and again, I remember why: I died in this chair when they pulled the switch, and when I came here, I was still in the chair.

That’s how many of us are, trapped in the moment of death. The drowned man continuously vomits water from his never emptied lungs, I saw a woman hounded by disembodied fists pummeling her from every angle, the suicide man is always reloading his shotgun and blowing out the back of his head, and I am here, waiting for the next big zap.

You can see it coming like a far off storm, flashes of lightening growing ever nearer. Just as in my life, I wait for it, wait a lifetime for that final—Final! There is no final here—moment. I watch the storm, knowing the inevitability of it. Yet sometimes, it approaches only to retreat; the lightning strikes a foot away from me, and then the storm passes.

So, the worst part of my life is replayed and replayed.



  1. This piece is actually excellent. It is of the publishable caliber for an online flash fiction mag. This is one of the better pieces I’ve read of yours. It is a great snapshot, a little bite, done artfully but also simple enough for the everyday reader. A good balance.

    Liked by 1 person

        1. Unfortunately, they do not accept work if one publishes it before-hand on one’s own blog. 😦

          But I will consider writing something for them now that I know about them. Thank you.


          1. Well, I know it’s not perfect, but you could take the post down off your blog and submit it to them. I have done that not thinking clearly before and took a post down then submitted it somewhere and it was ok. So maybe you could do that for this time and then in the future you know that rule?

            Liked by 1 person

  2. Sorry I’m talking so much. It’s just that I liked this post. May I suggest taking out something? Maybe you can take out the beginning part that makes explicit “my little corner of hell”. Maybe makes some changes that creates a slow mystery? So start the piece just with this first-person description of the dude saying how he’s strapped and describing all those vivid things you did. And leave the reader to understand things by the end (not upfront). There is no need to name Hell. It’s awesome when a reader is confused as to why or where someone is in a setting and we are thrown into the piece and have to slowly be shown the reality around the characters, relieving the tension of the mystery. What do you think?

    Liked by 1 person

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