scree

Then I let myself believe it

Then I let myself believe it

I caught her in my headlamp. She might have pretty in another place but she was beyond defeat here, maybe even beyond consciousness. She was draped between the wings of two laboring guides. Her head was lolling. Her toes were dragging. That little Piper had stalled.

Acclimatizing

Acclimatizing

Primordial rivers of stone loomed overhead, frozen midflight by some sort of Medusian sorcery. I could feel them leaning toward us, pockmarked and dark.