“Taste?” I offered.
One man surveyed the platter I held sheepishly in my hands: my heart in its entirety, chopped to fun-sized pieces. Toothpicks punctuated each morsel.
He popped a red bite into his mouth, then, spitting it into his napkin, daintily placed it on the edge of my tray.
This is Alexandra’s seventh 50-word story.
He was sick of blood.
Meanwhile, the trail of corpses had authorities hot on his heels, so he decided to quit cold turkey. He joined “Bloodsuckers Anonymous”, a little known international self-help organisation with their head office in Transylvania.
Problem was, there wasn’t a vampire amongst them, just corporate leaders.
Connell has previously written about Frankenstein and zombies on 50-word Stories. This is his first, and perhaps last, foray into the shadowy world of vampires.