50 Words of Fiction: The Visitor

She comes late to breakfast to find the front door standing wide open. A spray of lilies scattered on the hall floor, furniture in splinters, curtains in tatters. Drifting from somewhere at the back of the house is the scent of burnt toast, and … strangers.

No going back now.

bloody looking beets.jpg
Photo credit: Ryan McGuire at Gratisography
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