||[Jul. 28th, 2006|09:59 pm]
Fast Fiction Friday
The key is slowing growing warm in my hand. I'm squeezing it in my fist. The teeth cut into my palm. I look the letter over one last time. The room is dark, but there's a sliver of moonlight between the curtains. Just enough to read.
I hear a shuffling from her room. Her weight shifts in the bed. Her feet shuffle across the carpet. Barely awake, she asks what I'm doing. Nothing, I tell her. I feel the key in my hand. The letter behind my back. I'll be back in bed in a minute.