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Weekly Contest #267
Skeel Nishiyama stared down into the courtyard, sparsely lit by dying lamplight, at the body of a woman who had lived only moments ago. Even from the balcony, the child could see blood pooling around the lifeless corpse, seeping into cracks lining the stone streets. He could smell it; blood was on the steel railing he clung to now, where she'd fallen back and ripped open her palm. He couldn't bring his voice out, the night as silent as the unmoving lump of flesh. The corpse of his mother. His insides threatened to spill out as the spinning s...
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