Let Us Prey: Flash Fiction Challenge
My story is below. For the initial trigger pull that started this whole thing,vist Going Ballistic here . To sample the follow up shots, head here **** The Lock-In Harlan couldn’t sleep. The Veggie Tales blasted from the far side of the church where the youngest slept in their Transformer and Disney Princesses sleeping bags. Somewhere over by the snack table, Pastor Evans snored. Over by the pulpit, Old Lady Lawton sat in her Purdue chair knitting and farting with abandon. While the kid with the bowl haircut was in the toilet shitting again. Harlan blamed the pizza. He had come for the pizza. His mother would never make pizza and she, sure as shit, wouldn’t stop and buy any. Normally, as much as his mother hoped he would go, he hated these things and refused. But when he heard there was pizza at the lock-in, he asked for the five bucks. He had hoped for Papas—either Murphy’s or John’s. Instead, Mr. Lawton showed up with something nasty and local. Cheap, cardboard boxes wet with grea
