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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2025
Submitted to Contest #329
The hollow sound of the late November wind blew through the wide brick alleyway. Standing around the factories had become quite a depressing pastime for Arla, although she found in it a certain discrete imagination; creativity; memory. As she strolled through the cold wind that wished for summer, she could easily imagine it being hot and dry desert sand blowing against her face, for it was just as bitter. The intermittent torrents of wispier and more liberated streams of sand shut Arla’s eyes, and the howling wind that barreled down the all...
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