Photo by Simon Berger on Unsplash
My eyes won't know gods,
But my hands bear the mountain,
And that is enough.
About the Creator
A Love Forboding
The chipped stone slope caused unbearable footing. I slid, skirting on my heels. I cast my shield, relinquishing my guard to stay upright. Left with my double-edge and a prayer to the maker, I skated toward my objective. The earthly stubble gave way to solid ground. I found myself restored, a trail of dust in my wake.
By James U. Rizzi2 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.