Ficlets

Crashscape

Travels in the desert… going somewhere… in the desert…

...onahorsewithnoname…

...Rust stretches every away, the sun burns Bruce’s skin raw… There was a city ahead, a city of light…

...orjustanotherlostangelcityofnight…

...Not really a city, it, it represented something… Something that glimmered and glowed and grew and collapsed on itself like a black hole…

...sunwon’tyoucome…

...Then this endlessness where red dust sky and red rust land blur on the horizon and the endless forsaken light pulses down in waves that bludgeon like a sound… He opens his canteen, his throat hurts…

...exampleisthecheckertothekey…

...It rattles as he unscrews the cap, and when he opens it and tries to pour water down his throat, hard plastic letters and numbers tumble onto his sunburned face… They fall to the ground… He blinks at them: plastic fridge-magnet letters that spell something – 328BC8 AE2001 00D145 ...

...He stares at the multicolor runes at his feet…

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