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Weekly Contest #376
My broken body shambles down the woodland road. My feet drag across the asphalt. My clothes, my jacket from however many winters ago, are drenched in last night’s storm. It droops and sticks to my skin but I do not feel the damp cold. I don’t feel much of anything. I don’t know how long I’ve been wandering, I’ve lost count of the days, but I think it must be years by this point. I don’t sleep anymore. I’m awake when the sky bruises purple and into black, and I’m awake when bright orange breaks across the night. If I could, I’d lay down in th...
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