#ShortShortStories

a cure for the common block

Oh, How We Met on the Night That We Danced

Dahla approached her seventh decade of a solitary existence on the mountain and would not have preferred living anywhere else, especially within the proximity of other people; she shot at anyone foolish or ignorant enough to tread on her property even lost hikers on the brink of Death, the true enemy she was warding off. In winter she would turn 116 having eluded His embrace in a heap of corpses following a massacre on her village, one look into the empty pits of His eyes and she knew He would never stop hunting her. Dahla spent decades roaming aimlessly, refusing to believe what had happened and attempting to avoid human contact out of an inexplicable fear deep within her. She eventually moved into an abandoned cabin she discovered and settled in, simplifying her solitude while mulling over the incident which stole so many of her closest bonds, growing bitter as the years dragged on – feeling cheated. One day however, far in the future she would succumb to the weight of isolation and open her door, welcoming the Reaper to give her peace and join those that she lost.

#ShortShortStories #OhHowWeMetOnTheNightThatWeDanced

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