Jodainislame
Brooks bubbling on endlessly, small strands of grass dip down to drink from it's cool, clear stream to escape the summer heat when a shadow leaps overhead. Laughter turns into a loud splash and every sun baked being along the bank delighted in the refreshing shower cascading upon them.
It felt like years had passed her as her feet were firmly planted on the concrete. She'd stared long and hard for the past millenia as gloss faded into matte. Must be more fun than whatever those boys were up to.
Screeching whirrs split the air, an awful complaint from that which, under claw, was being torn apart as if mere paper. That which had let us ascend to the heavens was torn asunder.
Old frayed jeans bedding amongst dewy blades. A mind lost in thought, fingers aimlessly fidgeting with the flora within reach, one particular branch not beig able to withstand such daydreams and breaking.
Each moving pebble echoed endlessly in pitch black caverns, the groan of old rope adding to it's melody. A singular light source moved to and fro, hoping to see where ground might be and that the cord he clutched onto was long enough.
He'd just come home, refamiliarizing his eyes with street he'd run many times, faces who have aged in the past handful of years. One face, no, looking down it was two, stood out from the rest and his eyes could not be torn away.
The sun was suffocating in it's embrace, every inch sweltering to a crisp, only to be satiated by the fresh burst of a fruit's gift.
He stood in the threshold, ever fiber as still as stone. Icy cold walls pulled in on him, crushing him with their unbearable weight. Amongst the dull greys of a royal hue was a smattering of violent crimson, a sickening color.
The bitter cold was held back by thick wooden doors. An older woman sat upon a rickety stool, whose legs strained on the stone beneath them, with the whisper of wurring and a fresh yarn pooling.
Puffing out into billows of thick clouds, a cough rang through the metal space. No matter how much the boy tried to clear the air in front of him it was hopeless, swirling blackness only grew darker as coughs echoed back in a mocking chorus.
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