(33) Hungering

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(A horror story in 50 words.)

When you’re born I’m thin as a whisper, insubstantial as a shadow, hiding in air.

I follow you as you grow up, feeding on your envy and your fear as you learn to covet, to hate.

And when you’re an aged husk I hover over you, bloated and still wanting.

(Hi, everyone. I committed to doing The Writing Cooperative’s 52-Week Writing Challenge, and my choice is a 50-word horror story every week. I can’t believe I’m more than halfway through the challenge! Please click the heart if you enjoyed it. And if you liked this, I’ve written longer stuff too.)