The following is my 200 words to start a story for terribleminds.com flash fiction challenge. Take it easy on me, its one of the first fiction pieces I’ve written in many years. I think the working title is “The Rainstorm”. I would be honored if you pick it.—-
There he was, standing on the porch, exposed to the pouring rain. He was fully drenched, wearing a flannel long-sleeve shirt, overalls, and big work boots. His usually curly hair was laying straight and came down to his shoulders. His body was shuddering but not from the cold rain driving down on him and soaking his bones. Laughter. That’s what it was. Slightly hunched forward and laughing from the pit of his stomach. Despite his circumstances he seemed to be quite cheerful.
He was quite the sight and was giving me something to do while waiting for the power to come back on. It had gone off almost 2 hours ago and would most likely be out for quite some time. That’s just the way it goes in a tiny town 50 miles from anywhere. This was much more interesting than watching another Judge Judy episode, and my Snuggy was keeping me warm in my recliner as I watched safely from across the street and behind slightly closed blinds.
The one thing that was throwing me off though was the large axe he was holding in his right hand, and was that a severed head hanging by its hair in his left?