With the Passing of Time

Untitled livid drabble

Posted on: May 10, 2008

The bruises around his neck stood out purple and violent, livid against his skin. He carefully wrapped a scarf around the marks, trying his best to cover them without causing himself undue pain.

Not many people tangled with a Vorcond and lived to tell about it. Grateful to be alive, he pulled his jacket collar up to help hide the bruising. He could still feel the long tentacle swiftly wrapping around his throat, its row of thorn-like claws nicking the skin. Why he was spared, he’d never know. Never again would he listen to his cousin: no more practical jokes!

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2 Responses to "Untitled livid drabble"

Hmm … so many questions! No more practical jokes, indeed. Are you sure this is all you’re going to write of this story?

Absolutely that’s all. I like sci fi but this doesn’t inspire much beyond picturing the Watcher in smaller form. Although why you’d pull a practical joke against even a small Watcher is beyond me.

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Willingness to join soil, sound, hands; memory follows me ~ Viggo Mortensen

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Daily words come from Merriam-Webster's word of the day. All rambling comes from my head.

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