Thursday, September 25, 2014

Flash Fiction # 1

                A cloud of dust swirls in the wind.  Gold and red glint in the sun.  She watches the specks fly with an organized chaos.  Fear and fascination ties her to the ground, staring at the swirling dust moving faster and faster.  The sky is almost tinted green and the dust sweeps the land in a beautiful spiral.  The specks grow larger to the point where branches and leaves join the mass.  The cloud of dust continues to grow and move with intense speeds.  Still the woman stands still.  Standing and looking, but not truly seeing what’s in front of her eyes.  The dust is about one mile wide, taking in large debris, and raging in an endless twister.  The tornado approaches.

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