Individual Apocalypse
South African.
Leafy goodness!
Egg shells feel like feathers - softly, gently ground beneath behemoth tongues. Leviathan laughter echoes.
Abstract butterflies take the brunt, wings turning to kaleidoscope dust in the nuclear wind.
Eyes see strangely through scorched sclera, strands of psychedelic vapour somehow still visible.
Perspective skewed beyond the realms of human conception leaves ruins where cognisance once reigned.
The colours don't rhyme.
The colours don't rhyme.
Prequels
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
Sequels
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (2 so far!)
Average reader rating 4.00/5
Jae
Repetition indicates importance. Of all the descriptions, this is the parting thought. And I can't help but notice the European spelling of colour. I've always preferred that.
- #4400 Posted 5 years ago
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- Published 5 years ago and featured 5 years ago.
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Jim Stitzel
Twisted and surreal. I love it. :)