Impart

She peeked over her shoulder, shuddered, and kept walking as fast as she could.

A slimy, pale hand grabbed her wrist, just tight enough to feel her vapid pulse.

Crunched his nose with her remaining clog, slammed apart the sloppy hand with a reluctant, thundering door.


She said yes to the salesman's first offer so quickly that he appeared puzzled, perhaps thinking she was capable of car theft.


The thought of driving even another five minutes, staring down at where those ruddy, deathly fingers reached up for her-- yearning, clawing, sweating-- she didn't tell him she would have given it away.