Stories (128/0)
Pack Animals
Had the oppressive heat not choked his throat, he'd have yelped for help. No help would have come. He'd have blistered his shrill vocal chords at the risk of collapsing his graying lungs, if given half a chance. Instead he gasped for air amid fits of silent anger.
By Christy Munson2 days ago in Fiction
On The 8th Day
He was exhausted. Six days had been enough. On the seventh day He rested. But there was still so much work to be done. He thought long and hard about asking for assistance because He was used to doing things just so, His own way, exactly as He liked it.
By Christy Munson3 days ago in Fiction