Micro Fiction: Bones of a Friend

Photo by Aleathia Drehmer

Bones of a Friend

The bones feel disconnected in his hands; they feel limp like a sleeping infant.  Barnabus is almost afraid to peel back the silken edges, afraid of what he might find though the linear part of his brain knows very well what he will see. They gleam against the blanket, against the succulent soil in mounds. 

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