I clumsily slip and hit my head on the black decaying wood. I painfully get up and continue my jog down the crimson leaf path. I land swiftly on the leaves they crack like bones and tear away before my eyes, I run around a twisty bend and the forest seems alive, the trunks and twigs groaning in the viscous wind, my jog turns into a fast paced run to race back home.
Jack G (Cameo Writing)
No comments:
Post a Comment