by David Hartley
A great gust of hot jungle air sweeps through the cargo bay doors as, there; they open, but my blood does not get warmer because then; at that moment, I first properly hear the untidy clippety-clop of angry hooves on concrete and soon; within mere moments, I will be encountering the split second of my duty and now the giant cork in my hands feels very, very heavy.
–
David Hartley was born and bred in Preston and Manchester.
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#1 by ramsea on January 25, 2012 - 9:56 am
Very suggestive, atmospheric.
#2 by jennifer walmsley on January 25, 2012 - 11:17 am
I can feel MC’s fear in this. Excellent micro fiction.
#3 by Kelly Gillette on February 9, 2012 - 11:52 pm
Ha, good one. I like it!