Requiem

Stephen M. Tomic
Nov 4 · 2 min read
Source

A man sits silently in his garden beneath the pale moon. The grass is verdant and cool to the touch. Wind stirs the leaves on trees. Music drives through the lilac night. The cellos play an ostinato, propulsive and unrelenting. The flower bed appears to be empty at first glance, but a closer look reveals the moist soil to be packed with seed. The smell is rich and heavy like good coffee.

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Stephen M. Tomic

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writer* fiction* editor* smtomic@gmail.com

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