Mid-Week Muses: “Your tomorrows are my yesterdays”

A weekly compilation of collected microfictions composed by yours truly. If your time is short, these are shorter!

The mob around Asil was merciless, 
a chaotic maelstrom of blows beating 
the tween girl to the ground. She 
went down like a lioness 
The golden idol sat serene at the 
center of its taboo pond. She dove 
in, then drowned mired in the tar 
beneath calm waters. 
Clair waded into the mob. Angrily 
unlocking her power, her touch 
brought painful spasms as she became 
a living taser. 
Navigating confined spaces by touch 
alone, she clutched the stone walls 
of the tomb in total darkness... 
calm in a world she knew. 
Beth brought the shuttle to a gentle 
touchdown. A routine flight, but the 
child doing somersaults in her womb 
seemed to enjoy it. 
Finger on the trigger, Tina smiled 
shooting the rottweiler dead. Then 
a cold barrel touched her ear, and a 
shotgun was cocked. 
Steel guitar and country twang 
surrendered to the off-set rhythm of 
an idling station wagon's windshield 
"Your tomorrows are my yesterdays," 
the old man said to his teenage self. 
"Trust me... talk to her twenty years 
before I did." 
Viv jiggled the limp and broken knob. 
“Did your door have an accident?” 
“Yeah. Me," Gronk said with an orcish 

Copyright © 2017 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

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