Becca
"Everything is so... flat." Denille said stupidly as she looked around her new neighborhood. She looked around at the muted desert where even the smallest sign of life seemed to have given up. The plant life was shrubs that were half cooked by the heat and where there should have been a lawn, a mess of white rocks laid glistening in the sun. Even the sky looked stretched thin, like the sun had ironed it smooth. She’d moved from Riverside, where at least there were hills, but here in Barstow, everything felt baked and brittle.
Comments (2)
Dear Carol & Jonathan - Thank you for your lovely comment re; "Sugar Daddy." I knew you would GiT-iT. I so like your work and especially Jonathan's 'Coat Hanger' tale. I just have trouble keeping up with U'z. I've stood back a little since the "Creative" new ways to write writer's among us with filler (4) letter words and (4) line poems have made simple StoryTellers such as myself a dinosaur. I'm just a retired, highly scrutinized, legal writer morphed into a self described 'Goof-Writer' nothing more. I don't count stats-contests-rewards; this was just fun, at first, in retirement for me. This one caught my eye - If you haven't done so please see 'Victims Too.' My Best, Jay Jay Kantor, Chatsworth, California 'Senior' Vocal Author - Vocal Village Community -
Touching!!!