Flash Fiction

Gasping for air, he pedals faster as his body screams. The slope of the bike trail is an impossibly steep degree. He curses, coughing, begging for forgiveness as he tortures his soul.

Punishing himself for the child's ghost who haunts his waking dreams. He hadn't meant to kill her. It was only a moment, a split decision, a text to see.It was the mother's or the child's fault she ran into the street. He couldn't have known it would happen. He had to look; what if it was an emergency? Hell, it could have happened to you or me.