Madison invited me to participate in this short weekly event. The idea is to write a 100 word story, and I was intrigued enough to venture a little off the Wicca-oriented path. Anyone who has attempted to write microfiction (generally a page of less of single space size 12 font) knows how hard it is to make an impact on a reader in so short a space. The Friday Fictioneers challenge is daunting because it is so small. This is my first attempt, and a little dark, but it’s what came to mind from this week’s photo prompt.

The dust was unbearable, caking in her nose and throat through the bandana. She was blinded by the moving wall of sand that embedded in her eyes and stirred her horse to near panic. Or perhaps it was the body that disturbed the horse so. He would still be warm to the touch if she were to dismount and approach, but she had no interest in him; just another kill. The showdown was over, but the battle had hardly begun. Her enemies had fled, hiding in the dust, leaving this one behind. He was merely the first.

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