by Duke Trott
I will never forget the impossible exhaustion in his eyes, or his cries, which alerted us to his presence at the wood’s edge.
“Please end the dance,” he sobbed, “let me rest, let me die.”
I thought I heard a child giggle, as we dragged the raving man into the doctor’s home, but his screams drowned it out.
“You’re all fools!” he shouted hoarsely, grabbing our lapels, trying to make us understand, seemingly unconcerned by the ragged remains of his feet, which left long red stains across the floor.
“These clothes…” said the doctor, “they remind me of my grandfather’s…”
Author bio: Duke Trott is a writing currently living in Michigan, His work has recently appeared in Occulum and Bad Pony. When he’s not writing poetry, he’s usually reading comics, or researching tips for improving homemade bread.
Hexenring is part of 101 Fiction issue 19.