Day #29 – by Amber Averay (continued from Day #28):
The bruised fog chased me, dogging my every faltering step, crawling about my ankles and licking up my calves. It toyed with me, trying to catch my feet, trip me up, send me sprawling to the ground.
I’d fallen enough – in more ways than one. I’d been foolish, reckless, impatient, curious – and I’d paid. I’d paid, dammit! My body ached, my muscles were strained, my very bones groaned. My head was pulsing, lungs burning, and my mind couldn’t be trusted. Nor could my senses.
I could trust nothing. Least of all myself.
Run faster, lest you wish to return with me…
‘Leave me alone!’ I pant, saliva thick and sour like glue in my mouth.
Just ahead of me, a rope of purple mist whipped out and coiled about the base of a tree. A small tug, and the trunk tore itself from the ground and crashed across the path before me.
Laughter echoed through the trees, malicious and resonant, and my recklessness kicked in once more. Limping on a bad ankle, shuffling on stumbling feet, I charged toward the fallen trunk, my intention to leap it like an athlete flying over the hurdles.
As was my theme of the day, I failed.
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