Daniel Wisniewski
Stories (1/0)
A touch through time and space
He scanned the brownish gray, dusty, flat expanse around him as he walked. Looking for anything notable, any landmarks. Shifting spirits of wind given form by dust and grit seemed to reflect a listlessness. Buildings, flattened, molding from water damage and exposure against a dim sky with the night’s stars still visible from the lack of competing light. The former abodes and businesses were like big crushed cardboard boxes. There was so much nothing stretching into the distant reaches, but this was once a fairly decent sized village. He mentally switched to foraging mode. He wasn’t sure if it was something he was imagining but it felt like he could mentally, no, just feel where there was something worth finding. Maybe it was his imagination trying to keep him sane, but he had no system to his foraging methods and a fairly high success rate. It was as if by being alone, some unseen tendrils of psychic need for more sensory stimulation reached out, established a new way to cope with a bleak and wasted world. Or maybe it was just delusions of grandeur.
By Daniel Wisniewski3 years ago in Fiction