Microstory – A Muffled Death

Clinking glass, haughty laughs and drunken squabbles flew past the late hour.

Terse police, twisted questions and pointed looks arrived with the rising sun.

The swollen dead body was pale; the needle pricks visible.

My last breaths soundlessly deafened by superficial gloss.


11 thoughts on “Microstory – A Muffled Death

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