By Jay Lonnquist | Storytelling, in Paragraph Proportions | 3 Dec 2020
He swings his brass lamp from side to side, it's orange knot of illumination revealing places of stone both raw and cut with uncanny, incomprehensible steles of spidery cracks and characters. Old stone. From the days of the First Foundations, he’d hazard.
When the city above was set lower and deeper.
In a time when there were fewer layers of the living and the dead, mounded one against the other.
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A dark, fantastical tale that is intended to unfold a paragraph, or thereabouts, at a time.
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