Categories
Member Write Showcase Spilvenr MK Windsinger What Happens Next?

The Bag

By Spilvenr MK Windsinger

It was cold inside that bag. Not a room temperature cold, but almost like a black void cold, and I felt like reaching inside would suck me in. Well, my soul at least.

The sounds which came from the jet stained nothingness were of monstrous, penetrating cries, and sadistic laughter. Women weeping streams of horror, and many children moaning in agony as one voice.

Strange to think I held a bag to another dimension, and given to me by a stranger.

© All poetic works displayed on this website are copyright of the original author. All rights reserved.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s