Horror short story

The collapse tossed me to the floor. Painful sparks at knee and elbow where I gave up skin to the god of pissed-off caves; not much compared to the colossal oh shit I'm going to die that smothered all bandwidth. Terror devolved me right down to a tender worm beneath the descending boot and I jacknifed into a c, then an s, shredding my ass trying to burrow into hard stone and hide.

The bit you'd call the actual disaster was over in a New York minute. A seismograph needle tripping the groove, or perhaps that was the thin unsavoury air talking. The aftermath stretched slow and dreamy as a melting record groaning out sad songs, bad songs, songs to break up to as they drip in tarry honey down the turnstile   ...

​

​

A spurned lover ventures underground one last time to explore a mysterious cave.

​

Babes Down Boreholes can be enjoyed as part Vu Ja De: Collected Short Stories Volume Three.

​