Rain pelts the earth, drowning out all other sounds. Overcast skies cast a grizzly glow over the land. There's night here, but no sun.
The warrior, blended in with his surroundings, watches the landscape from the shelter of an evergreen tree, high in the branches. He's supposed to be watching for goblins.
He hears a weak heartbeat – he knows the difference between goblin and something else.
This heartbeat sounds much too mortal to be goblin.
YOU ARE READING
365
Non-FictionI had this idea last night after a few drinks, a pounding headache, and an excessive amount of throat lozenges. In order to inspire me to write more often than I currently do, I am planning to write a new post every day and publish it, allowing me t...
