Fiction Fragment Fridays: Buried


As I mentioned last week, I’m giving myself a little bit of neccesary relief by way of drabbles on Fridays for a little while. This one is something I whipped up while telling drinking stories with the boys at work (don’t worry…this exact story did not actually happen to any of us!)


The first thing I noticed was the pounding headache. The second was that the air I was breathing was awfully stale and dusty-tasting. I tried to sit up, but my head immediately cracked off of something extremely solid.

Frustrated, and hungover as hell, I shifted around in the pitch-black, tight space in order to wiggle my BIC lighter out of my jeans pocket and into my hand. Lacking back and holding the BIC near my face, I flicked the little wheel to bring forth a flame.

I was inside a cheap wooden coffin.

“Ah shit. Not this again.”


2 thoughts on “Fiction Fragment Fridays: Buried

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s