Saturday, December 26, 2009

(semi-) WWP 11

I blink, and a thousand thousand years pass; the land around the hill I stand on fills with water and a pine forest grows around me, tall straight trunks that are stricken, one by one, by blight or age or fire until only a few trunks perch wind-twisted and reaching on the land, now worn rocky and barren.

I wipe the stain of the past from my eyes and set out to continue my task.

Yeahhhhh that's all I've got for that one. I'm sure there's a story here, I just have no clue what it is...

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