A darkling drabble offers a shiver of horror in a hundred words…
A ghostly fairground on Walpurgis Night. The girl pressed on through the sights and smells, careful to touch nothing in her passing. She knew her goal, and music pulled her onward to the place that would test her fortitude and prove her a true witch. There it was. The horses pranced and the music screeched and groaned. Each waltzing horse had a laughing child on its back. Until you looked closer and saw that the pink mouths were stretched wide by agonised screaming, not laughter.
Moved to pity, she was glad of an empty stomach as she stood and endured.
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