Though I'm a flash fiction fan, rarely do I read a flash fiction story that still haunts me a year later. This story is the psychological horror I love, the theme to which I aspire, and the human experience which cuts through the hot air and chills your core:
Emma Alice Johnson
From the comments:
"Because it has happened to me, and without making any judgement, I think this story ended itself. I'm of the school that says not every written word or group of words needs a purpose, or a theme, or an arc, or some deep meaning, or connection to someone else's words. When I leave my home (just to give a concrete example, because I could also say when I leave the last minute I lived through) no matter what my purpose, I have no idea what will happen in the next minutes, hours, days. The water, the cliff, the yells for help, the persistence, all of those parts of the story grew, as if to some great crescendo, and then there was nothing--almost a whole life condensed into a few minutes.
So much to think about. I'll carry this one with me. Maybe it's classified as horror, but it doesn't have to be.
Excellent." -Chris Antenen