Jeff Stone

Well Enough

Claustrophobia rushed over him in relentless waves.
His mouth tasted like metal. Acid clawed its way from
his gut to his throat. Tiny hairs stood on end as cold
sweat raced like a fatalistic messenger down his back.
Someone was watching him….

Distinguished Writer of the ArtAscent Haunting call for entry. To see the full body of work, grab a copy of the ArtAscent Art & Literature Journal Haunting issue.

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