Friday’s Short Story

storytellerI had time to reflect, as I activated the footswitch that would open the trapdoor beneath the chair to which I had carefully strapped myself, that my self-destructive nature had arguably taken a turn for the worse.

And as I tumbled into the glass-walled tank I had constructed and filled with water, genetically-engineered killer sea bees and a giant robot octopus with a handgun in every tentacle, I knew I was no longer merely my own worst enemy.

I was my own arch-enemy. This was a troubling development.

An Epiphany
by Harris
more tiny tales

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