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The Bishop and the Vine

This was inspired by Chuck Wendig’s flash fiction challenge. No more than 100 words of flash fiction, using three of five randomly selected words.

When the bishop arrived, I sighed in relief. I preferred prison to death. He clicked his tongue and examined me hanging upside down against the tower. The ivy had held my leg for nearly an hour. My foot was turning purple from the constriction. I thought I would die here alone.

He pulled the lollipop from my fist. “We can’t afford one,” I blubbered. “My mother has the rot. She only has days to live.”

“I see,” he said, examining the seal on the sucker. “It’s such a tragedy to outlive your child.”

He casually walked away, ignoring my cries.

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