Fiction

Skeletal trees splashed with silver and charcoal glare down upon the winding road. If you stand on the very crest of the hill, they look like an army of charred trunks and twisted limbs. No animals move about within the shadows. No birds nest in the trunks of the trees. No insects make a sound … Continue reading Fiction: ‘Firebug’

via Fiction: ‘Firebug’ — Writing on Tangents

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