The road was smooth, the horses were smooth, and every step was still jarring into wounds that Nikol hadn’t even realized she had until she mounted.
They traveled for half the day with no good prospects, both of them tight-jawed with pain neither of them were going to admit and not feeling much like talking. They were moving through what had once been a suburb and was now a burned-out husk; from the looks of things, at least three separate fires had gone through here over the last several decades. Nothing was left now except half of a convenience store, its plastic sign melted into a lump of green and white.
That wasn’t going to get them any food. And the tiny gathering of people they found on the outskirts of town didn’t look like the sort that had much to give them, even if Nikol had anything she was willing to trade. Continue reading
In honor of Pinterest getting sub-boards (YAY!) and Mer-May and… things… I offer this prompt call.
(or just do some google image searching)
Pick an image, and prompt me with it.
Text along with the image is welcome (“what is he plotting?” “Why is she there?” “This should be in Things Unspoken…”)
No promises I’ll get to them all, but I’ll try to do at least a few a week all May.
(Aquatic creatures are clearly the preference but not required)