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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2021
Weekly Contest #97
The shade of the mist surrounding my memory of his last words was as grey and scattered as the morning after a heavy rain. The type that makes the inexperienced and veteran lost, robbing them of hope, plundering them of home. It's amazing how that seems to be the only thing clear, even after trying years and years after. That is the extent of what I can remember, much to my disappointment. I don't know why I'm not giving up at this point really, but I really want to remember those words. I want to hear it again, I want to understand it's me...
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