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Weekly Contest #60
“Next!” The line’s tail didn’t seem to be getting any shorter. Though, I could have felt my breath was. As I gulped the parched air, hoping for its unfiltered and dusty contents to revive me, all it revived was a measly cough. “Hey, move it girlie!” my eyes drowsily shot back at him as to imply that both him and his battledress meant not even the grains of desert sand beneath us. My feet staggered to bridge the weight of the wheelbarrow, sinking my incentive. The tactless heat wasn’t helping my case either. Retracing my goal that lied just a...
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