beckoning in fiction: flash, one word, etc.

  • Aug. 12, 2013, 11:34 p.m.
  • |
  • Public

There was the water, shimmering in the late afternoon light, it’s depths hidden behind the reflections on the surface. It called to me, beckoning, and I answered, leaving gravity and the heat of the day behind, slicing through the surface to the bottomless below.


Loading comments...

You must be logged in to comment. Please sign in or join Prosebox to leave a comment.