He had warned her not to reject him again, but the publisher folded the form letter and slid it into the self-addressed stamped envelope. His hand-written threat on the bottom of the query hadn't scared her a bit. She lifted the envelope containing the final rejection to her mouth and quickly licked the seal. Her tongue tingled, she licked her lips and swallowed. Perhaps it was more than a threat.
A high-pitched sound filled her office and she screamed when she saw the string of words whizzing through the air towards her. They were moving fast but somehow she could read them all—regret to inform you, unfortunately, sorry, sadly, does not fit. Each word, each phrase landed on her body and seared into her flesh.
A high-pitched sound filled her office and she screamed when she saw the string of words whizzing through the air towards her. They were moving fast but somehow she could read them all—regret to inform you, unfortunately, sorry, sadly, does not fit. Each word, each phrase landed on her body and seared into her flesh.
4 comments:
I think I can detect a primal, violent (shall we say even ...? no, we shall not say) hand behind this one. The sentiment seems familiar, like that sweet perfume of your attractive co-worker that is probably just laundry detergent.
...but I'm holding my votes until all the stories are in!
I vote for this one.
Ouch! Could feel the letters. Good beginning.
Hmmm, do I catch some passive aggressive tendencies here?
This is definitely one of my nightmares, although I'm not sure it's really a universal theme.
Clever idea. Good descriptions. But where do you go from here? Maybe she dies and comes back to haunt him?
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