Rowan Cowley
Joined June 2021
2 stories
Stories (2)
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The silver locket and the sun gazer
“He told me you would come. I’ve been waiting.” Reynolds’ heart made a bid to flee the captivity of his rib cage as the voice croaked out unexpectedly from the silence. He turned to face an old man with a beard and wild hair as unkempt as the weeds which had overgrown the ramshackle home’s exterior, lips as cracked and sun blistered as the weathered paint on its walls and skin as tanned and rough as the brown dead earth that lay at its foundation.
By Rowan Cowley5 years ago in Fiction
