Monday, March 30, 2020

Ahem.

The regular gust blew chill air out of the cave's mouth. In the evening it would blow in. It was old hat to the spelunkers.

The too-fast humans had no inkling of the slow tickle their years of exploring had made in the throat of the Father of Caves.

2 comments:

The Mad Soprano said...

What is this, really bad Urple Prose?

Assistant Village Idiot said...

I like the idea