The exercise:
Write four lines of prose which take place in: the wasteland.
Off to the market tomorrow, need sleep, talk more later.
Mine:
It is silent here now. Car alarms have faded away, all the glass that could be broken has been shattered. No dogs or cats or even birds disturb the long lingering hush.
But that does not mean we are alone.
2 comments:
Hope it's a good market!
For a short, quickly written piece, that's quite a nice introduction to something!
The wasteland
Isabella Bonfontaine looked around; Marcello's light seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere and revealed that the interior of the cavern was a wasteland. Rock spoil mounded here and there, irregular and bumpy, and there were grooves in the cavern floor as though water had once flowed through. There was a sense of desolation, and even the light didn't dispel how grey everything was.
"Worm tracks," said Marcello, nodding at the grooves.
Greg - thanks!
Glad to see this continued, however briefly. That ending certainly leaves plenty of room for further developments though!
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