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Weekly Contest #45
A storm of ash descended from the charcoal skies, turning the town below into a grotesque garden of black. Only the faint kindles of fire held within the oiled cages of iron lampposts gleamed in the bleak ash. Black were the uniformed houses and streets of Hidora and black was the sky above and the earth below and black was the stale viscous river that ran through the belly of Hidora. From the tender warmth of his confines, did Horace Eden see the ash blanket the ground with a gentle touch. To his eyes it appeared as a shadow seeping into th...
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