Sunday, October 5, 2008

Drabble: Harvest


The cord tightens as I struggle forward. Some part of my brain knows that the harder I push, the worse it’ll get, but the drive to move forward is so strong that I cannot bring myself to give even a bit of ground. I see others in my same predicament around me, I smell the terror coming off of them, but all I can think of is myself, as I push forward, and then feel myself lifted, lifted, plummeting up up up into the sky...
“See? The building exit on Friday is a great place to set up a gillnet.”

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