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

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