By Jay Lonnquist | Storytelling, in Paragraph Proportions | 29 Sep 2020
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.
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A dark, fantastical tale that is intended to unfold a paragraph, or thereabouts, at a time.
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