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March '24 Drabble: Lucky Duck
Write me a prose story in exactly 100 words, using standard spelling and punctuation, on this topic: Luck. Good luck, bad luck, no luck, hard luck, whatever. It's supposed to be the month celebrating the Luck of the Irish, but anybody who has studied history can tell ya...luck is really, really subjective. I'll pick the winner in early April, unless I forget until mid April.
Profile avatar image for Fleetfoot
Fleetfoot in Flash Fiction

″ Bad Luck” She whispered

We are all whispering. Not wanting the ghost to hear us even though we've agreed that she doesn't listen. Though she seems to see us, past the real people that fill the room. Ghosts shouldn't hunt us, it's not our fault we fell for these blindly let out lies. The trap skillfully woven just like a spider web.

Bad luck, that's what she'd whispered to all of us, the only thing we remember, other than how we let her become our ghost. She'd stuck me through the stomach and twisted. Bad luck was how we died treacherously, unjustly, and unlucky.

I am 21 years or older.