The wind is settling at the foot of his road, by the large car park. He watches the last two cars as they wait and he wonders, will they be moved by nightfall? Will their keepers come for them, roll them forward, let them grunt to life.
Will they, will they.
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Tagged cars, cold, fiction, life, loneliness, night, parking lot, people, short story, wind
My heart ricocheted about my chest. The air slipped one breath ahead of me. My legs beat with desperate fervour.
As my flotsam body dragged and beat against the shingle I knew it: I was lost.
Moments later I knelt, prostrate before the ocean, cradling my soul.
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Tagged beach, cold, death, fiction, life, prostrate, short story
