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Weekly Contest #295
It was storming, the sky a slab of slate with swollen thunderclouds crowding its expanse, each nudging for room. A wicked, unrelenting wind whipped chestnut hair into my eyes and mouth. Pulling it out of my face, I looked at the desolation surrounding me. Empty air met me in every direction. I don't know where I am, I realize as the panic starts to set in and my breathing turns shallow and rapid. On my hands and knees, kneeling on what appears to be sand made from stardust, I take a calming breath and rise until I'm standing. What is this p...
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