A muse on concrete
Grey nothingness…bland chaos…dull to the eye. Yet touch and call back the long dead of seas now fiery sand or with soft lips taste its sour tears. Bend down and smell the heat of summer when rain prayed for.
To us Mayflies it remains unheard as tomb silence.
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Welcome and thanks for dropping in. I'll pop by yours by and by.
This blog was inspired by First 50 words where you freewrite from a single word prompt. I use random words or images to create flash fiction in formats ranging from twitter postcards to short short stories.