Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

November 17, 2019, 03:23:47 AM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti


Word of the Day
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Author Topic: Tire  (Read 27 times)
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« on: October 07, 2019, 08:01:48 PM »

A roof of grey sky hangs over the junk yard. My body is braced as I step gingerly over the ground avoiding the shining pools of grease and mud that wait to devour a careless boot. My feet are sore from where they rub against the steel toe. Rusty nails, earthy red engines, forked mouth of a sleeping bobcat excavator, and detached Cadillac doors that look like the shield from some long forgotten god of war are scattered like empty shells on a wrecked beach. Yesterdays dream. The occasional dandelion explodes through the hard cracked earth in a sign of defiance. Although this pile of glinting steel and death looks permanent it will one day succumb to natures hunger. I hear the sound of a hammer exploding in my ears. I question if the metallic echo is really there or just made up in my head. My shoulders shrug instinctively in case a flying object comes toward me. My entire body is a taught rope and I can't wait to breathe out the tension the moment I leave this place.
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