Flash Fiction: Paper Faces on Parade

“I feel alive again,” she said leaving the masquerade, “but you love a lie.”

Hands shaking, the opera singer bravely revealed her acid scarred face.

Erik removed his mask. She saw no revulsion in his deformed countenance.

“We are both, phantoms.”

 

 

Copyright © 2019 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

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