An Isolated Scene

The tent stood tall in the clearing, a grunting roo its only company. A rusty pot lay abandoned in the mud, ants feasting beneath the mould and grime. Frost coated grass stretched to a horizon made sharp by the early morning chill. An observer might have wondered at the low hum underpinning the sounds of the bush-land beyond. They may have noted in passing the dearth of cockatoos, absent shrieks echoing uneasily in the soundtrack of their mind. Certainly, they’d have commented on the slow swaying of trees in perfectly still air. The roo retreated, grunts fading unobserved into the distance.

Categories: Fiction Friday

Tags: , , , , ,

What are your thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: