Sunday, 6 September 2015


by J.J. Jordan

The invaders somehow had sight without whiskers. Monsters. Alarming chirps filled the den.

I nuzzled my pups, brushing them all over with my whiskers – seeing them in full – and giving little kisses. I prayed, may the Earth Mother protect them and the Death Worm never find them.

I ambushed the invaders at the highest tunnel, bursting through, my teeth slicing flesh. Others joined me and the invaders fled, screaming.

But it was a trick, a feint, and we returned too late. The nest empty. My brood taken.

I pulled on my whiskers till they fell out. I ache forever. Blind.

Author bio: J.J. Jordan writes fantasy and science fiction out of Tallahassee, Florida. The Liars’ League recently performed his short story, Life After 20, and he publishes flash fiction whenever he has the chance.

Sightless is part of 101 Fiction issue 9.

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