Penance
September 1st, 2009 | 
Author: by J.A. Saare
He tugged at the throat of the thin ketchup stained white cotton t-shirt with anxious jerks of his short stubby fingers, unnerved by attention he perceived but couldn’t visualize. I lagged several paces behind, smiling to myself as he peered left, then right.
He couldn’t see me — and wouldn’t. Not until it was time.
Working as a necromancer didn’t come easy. I saw shit that caused me to toss my cheerios on a routine basis. But the dead people I helped cross to the ever after led decent lives, meaning they deserved a turning of the proverbial cheek for a little bit of yuck factor every now and again.
The same couldn’t be said for very much alive and breathing Mark Kingston.
Posted in Fiction
Excellent! Of course, wishing there was more. “Saw” everything you wrote of, great scene setting. Lol, ‘poor’ Mark!
Oh, my gosh, Jaime! This is fabulous. I want more, more, more! Very creepy, very haunting, yet oh, so very satisfying.