Welcome to the Weekend Writing Warriors challenge. The challenge is to write a story or excerpt from a story you’ve been working on in 8-10 sentences. Take the time to check out other writers at the link above!
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When she was alive the pulsing lights would have given her epileptic fits. Her last one remains a part of her morning nightmares. Perry promised her beauty and power. He hadn’t completely lied. She’d been narrow like an exclamation point but chunky around the waist, a bit pimply on her cheeks and forehead—even though she was in her mid 20’s, and often her rich ochre skin dulled against most of her clothes; causing her to look sickly even with make-up.
Now, after her death, her chunky tummy seemed to have migrated to her boobs, hips, ass, and thighs—Perry said in the 70’s they’d have called her a “Brickhouse,” her skin cleared of blemishes glows–no makeup required. In the six weeks since her death, she’s managed to bed a bevy of bad and bougie women who wouldn’t have looked in her direction when she was alive. And she could lift cars, actual cars; in life, she could barely lift a 20lbs dumb bell.
But he didn’t tell her that human flesh tastes like chicken; she never liked chicken and now she has to eat it forever.
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Thanks for coming to check out my #8Sunday submission.
I’ve done a few of these before so feel free to roam the dcedwards.com site for other excerpts.
Also, if you want to check out my completed novel, Bright City, it’s available on Amazon.