By Jay Lonnquist | Storytelling, in Paragraph Proportions | 15 Dec 2020
An expectant intake of breath and a soft pause to drink in the whispers from below.
Pyna drifts down a narrow, silty, path.
Umin gingerly at her naked heels.
Her eerily graceful gait carrying her meandering down, down.
As they descend, she converses offhand with the downy darkness; a soliloquy painted against the velvety nothing that engirds.
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A dark, fantastical tale that is intended to unfold a paragraph, or thereabouts, at a time.
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