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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2025
Submitted to Contest #287
The metal clinked against itself as they turned the bucket over to pour its heavy contents into the bushes. The colors, vibrant against the smooth silver tin, coated themselves on the branches and leaves. The leaves rustled under the weight. The moon glinted off everything in sight. This was the ritual. This emptying of the guts. But it had to be done. They wretched again, bent over their vessel, one arm searching for the solidity of a fence post and the other resting on their knee. Deep muscles rumbled in their bell...
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