Terrence Hart
Joined June 2021
0 stories
Bio
I quite like to pen them words. It makes me happy
Stories (1/0)
Shards
The endless asphalt crumbled beneath her feet. She kept moving. The desert wind stirred the hardpan into a maelstrom of grit. Still she kept moving. The sun baked the water from her pores, and her emaciated limbs ached with each step, and the carrion birds marked her passage with their greedy beaks at the ready for the day that finally she fell – but she kept moving. For all the world was a tomb, and it consumed those who sat idle.
By Terrence Hart3 years ago in Fiction