By Jay Lonnquist | Storytelling, in Paragraph Proportions | 8 Dec 2020
Pyna abruptly melts away into the dark. Umin hesitates and pauses, uncertain of the unseen path ahead.
Then there is a ghostly brushing-against.
Cool lips pressed upon his cheek and a playfully mocking whisper from what seems a mere passing breeze.
He is frozen by the cold of fear and sour-sweet heat of something like longing.
You taste of sweet-grass…
Leaf eater.
Come, our roundabout route has at last
Lead us out…
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A dark, fantastical tale that is intended to unfold a paragraph, or thereabouts, at a time.
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