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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2024
Submitted to Contest #292
The man stood before the wall in his studio, his work nearly complete. A sunrise peeking out over a foreign horizon lit an almost complete pond and tree line. Thick black lines upon bare drywall were jarring in the small space. The work was impeccable. The leaves boasted their small veins and the grass near the pond would move if your head turned too quickly. He had honed his craft to perfection and sold his soul to do so.They were coming. He didnβt know who, but he knew they had found his graveyard. Heβd spent long enough there to know that...
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