Saturday, June 23, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday – The Prophet and The Crown I: The Fallen (WIP)




The first discernable thought that illuminated the man’s consciousness was where am I? Then came an even more disquieting consideration.
Who am I?
            He sat up, pushing with effort against the brown-black ground that supported his weighted body.  He dimly noted the running shoes, khaki cargo pants, and navy blue tee-shirt he wore.  Long, tanned arms, the hair on which was bleached golden, seemed oddly apart from him.  

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