#Flashfictionfriday: The Nightmare by Fuesilli

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The sleeping girl rests her head

On a pillow like clouds, on a king sized bed.

The artist sat across the room observing,

Neither critcising nor commenting.

She had chosen to wear a flow of white to bed, an innocent godess he pondered.

The gaslights dimmed as her sleeping began,

As he let the devil upon her.

The dark figure carassed every part of her humanity and flesh,

Her legs, arms and breasts.

The woman quivered in her sleep

Fear not! Said he,

The artist unknown and got a white horse as pale as the ghostly moon to watch upon her from the bedhead.

The devil stopped and disapeared.

She woke up.

The artist, devil and horse never showed again.

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