I walk along the beach, making sure not to trip on any rusted spokes or cogs. The sand is a mix of fine volcanic black grit, and a rainbow of glass pebbles washed cloudy by the sea. I don't let my feet touch the water. You never know what will be added to you if you touch it, or what might be taken away.
This is my usual walk in the morning, trying
(
Read more... )
Comments 5
(The comment has been removed)
Reply
Reply
Editor for the week.
Strong interesting piece, very dark and plotting character.
Loved the lines: "Some of the machines grew sentient, and are even now hiding in the shadows, plotting." wonderful way of making the machines animate.
I hope you do continue this.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment