The river, she’s a bitch again. Color of cornflower if you ask me. Been eating her way through our valley, helping herself to our land…
Quiet comes and settles the orchestra. Members take their places. Birds reconcile with trees, breeze sweeps away machine…
Short story -horror
“Grandma, can we please leave? This place is so boring. I don’t know why you brought me here,” young Franklin whines.