Amazing how much angst you can cram in 100 words if you set your mind to it!
Ianto's Dream
Canary Wharf
Metal
Blood
Metal and blood
Metal and blood and flesh.
Screaming
Metal and blood
Screaming metal and bloodied flesh.
"How can ghosts be made of metal? How can people be made of metal? How can metal be made from people?"
So many screaming metal people.
He screams with them, he screams for them; screams with her and for her. And for himself.
He is ashamed of his weakness, ashamed of his fear. It is never far away. It waits for him in the night's darkness.
"Hush. Sleep again. It's OK."
But it isn't. They are all ghosts now.
The End
I wanted to try writing a genuine drabble and this hits the 100 words exactly. Not sure whether the title is supposed to count as part of the 100 words, though. Anyone?