| Blackout |
By Annie Solomon
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Last night I killed a man.
Sliced into his tight white throat until the blood bloomed scarlet.
He gasped and struggled, breath gurgling. His knees, once strong enough to hold his weight, shuddered. They buckled, and he fell.
His eyes, whites wide and full of terrible knowledge, stared up at me from the floor where he lay.
I watched him die.
Excerpted from Blackout , by Annie Solomon . Copyright (c) 2006 by Wylann Solomon. Reprinted by permission of Little, Brown and Company, New York, NY. All rights reserved.Back to top