Saturday, December 12, 2015

Flash Fiction – Holed Up

Oh, god, I’m so small, and the world is so big.
The weighty winter quilt cuts existence into manageable chunks. Here is me. There is nothing. I swim in sweat, bathe in tears and drown in breath.
I hunker, face down in my sanctuary. Chin lodged between my knees, breasts smeared across my thighs. Hands linked over my neck, heels together across my slit. No way in.
His glorious size settles on my back, and shelters my world. He calms, and the ecstatic weight of him compresses me.
My breath comes in stabs. My insides jostle. My eyes and my cunt tingle with the juices he squeezes from me. I hurt where I need to and I’m wet where I should be. I’m never safer than when he curls me into myself. Outside is a grotesque storm and he is my cave.
A shock of air kisses my flanks where he raises the quilt. He’s found a way in.
His cock jabs at my ass, slick with sweat. I squeal so only he can hear. My tears flow just the same but taste so much sweeter.
Slowly I let the outside in, and that big, big world shrinks. By just that much.
He groans like thunder, fills me with heat. My heel finds my clit and pushes. I cry like I used to when that was my only release. Before I learned to fuck.
My little world has different truths. Two bodies inhabit the same space at the same time. He quakes, growls and comes. He compacts me, inside and out. One day I will be a diamond.
He’s so big.

Oh, god. I’m so small.


  1. Wow! Beautiful and intense.

    I'd love to know the inspiration behind this.

    1. Actually it was a little bit of serendipity, really. In 2010 I was taking part in an ongoing flash fiction elimination contest, and we had a prompt of "Under Pressure". I had no idea what to write, and then one of my Facebook friends posted something about their agoraphobia. It basically just grew from there!

  2. Wow, this has huge emotional impact. An amazing piece of writing, Willsin!

    1. Thanks, Annabeth. I do enjoy the distillation process of flash fiction. It's a wonderful challenge.

  3. "Outside is a grotesque storm and he is my cave." So much marvelous imagery!

    1. Thank you, ma'am! That's one of my favourite lines from the piece!

  4. Replies
    1. Thanks, Jean. I strive for that kind of impact in all my writing, but with flash fiction it does seem to come more readily.


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.