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Paused
Dusk; sky bleeding violet and tangerine; sun setting, beneath the horizon.
The wheat field, expansive, endless, below; stalks swaying in the breeze.
((WILL
I FIND
MY DEAR
...
Russell?))
Neither here,
Nor there,
But beyond
Past the chipped fence, rotting
The army of a thousand corpses
Adorned with cobwebs
Reduced to splintered bones
((MY DEAR...
Russell?))
The dark circles
The bites
The scratches
Sallow flesh
Faded hair
fluttering in the breeze
Without him
She is nothing;
She remains
Standing at the clearing
Staring beyond her world
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting
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