Friday, August 4, 2017

Surfer On The Drift

From today:

     Her hair had receded until it was only a few random flickering strands on top of her skull.  Nubs, the beginnings of horns, were growing out of her head slowly like somewhere someone was pressing down on a resistance-heavy lever. Protruding, the horns gleamed like freshly polished white beans.

No comments:

Post a Comment