Word Count: 146
It was impossible for the skeleton to move. There were no muscles, no sinews, just bones bolted together. I knew that.
But I couldn’t help having the feeling that it did. I’d catch a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye, a twitch of a white hand. I’d hear the bones jangling together. I’d hear the patter of bony toes on the rough tiled floor.
And overtime I’d turn around and there he’d be, standing just where he was, smiling innocent as can be. Those empty sockets looked like the eyes of a child who’d gotten away with stealing candy from the jar.
I kept telling myself that he was just a load of old bones I bought on the Internet, but every night, when the lights in the classroom were low and I was all by myself, I knew that he wasn’t.
This is my entry for this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Check out the prompt here! The picture was provided by Pixabay.com.