J.J. Cross
Bio
Fueled by love and coffee, I am a simple man finally writing down the stories and thoughts of my imagination raging out of control. I hope to entertain and distract readers for a short while.
Stories (2)
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Scales of Stone
Prologue: There weren't always dragons in the Valley. A fog always preceded their arrival. White tendrils would reach under doors and through any open windows or faults in the buildings. Down flues and chimneys, the vapors would plunge. Swatting them with brooms or hands would only deter the pressing for a brief moment before it would return. Clouds seemed to lift and sag with heaving, slow breaths. With each exhale, the grasping, curling tentacles would penetrate deeper. All glass would mist over with the arrival of the clouds. Peering into the blinding white was useless. All shapes and colors were gone, leaving faint ghosts of objects only discernable if you were close enough to breathe on them.
By J.J. Cross4 years ago in Fiction
