I like this because it's almost like a poem actually. I could expand it into a longer story, but I like the punch and the mystery it has being this short. Anyway, enjoy.
Wasteland
The
road sign hangs crookedly on its post, rusted and illegible. The wind pushing small clouds of dust over my
feet.
Carrion
eaters swarm over a horse carcass nearby, so many that I could hardly see the
white of the animal’s skull.
I
tear the badge from my chest and let it fall to the ground. I'm not a sheriff anymore.
He
lies at my feet, cooling as his blood seeps into the dirt. I pick up his guitar and start walking.
No comments:
Post a Comment