Exceptional A little something ... Dead End by Heather Knight Halloween Flash Fiction contest entry

I can't breathe. My heart is beating so fast and so loud that I'm afraid it might crack a rib. My hands are sweaty. Beads of perspiration trickle down my forehead and run into my eyes. I can feel the salty liquid stinging my fragile corneas. The room is cold and it's cloudy outside, probably raining, but I'm immersed in a burning hell of my own making. My mind is racing. I can do this. I have to. Just eight minutes left. I have to slow down. I need to think... Maybe if I calm down, I'll be able to write a story for the contest before work. Recognized

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