His gaze is gritty with gray motes of dryness and heavy, deprived of anything but days of the most fitful rest and more significantly, by a thick directionless fear that refuses to thin.
He sips lukewarm water from rough crockery.
A yellow-gray cup abandoned beneath a blandly basalt and iron tasting trickle from the nearby, pebbled wall.
How do you rate this article?
0
Poet / Designer / Developer / Coder
A dark, fantastical tale that is intended to unfold a paragraph, or thereabouts, at a time.
Reward the author with $0.01 in crypto, and earn yourself as you read!
% to author / 80% to me.
11 hours ago
4 minute read
13 hours ago
1 minute read
Page not displaying correctly?
