Running. That was the only thing I ever knew. The only sound I ever knew was the pounding of my feet on the hard, cracked sandy ground. The cracks that ran on the sand told me that this was probably once a lush, green area, flourishing with life, a cornucopia of biodiversity. However, it dried up. The cracks ran through the sand, like thin, spidery fingers, cracking apart the dirt. The only words ever spoken to me echoed in my head. Run. Run and never stop. I had never seen another human, my only memories were of running, and this desert. Oh, what I would give for a change of scenery. I never tired, I never weakened. I ran.
YOU ARE READING
Cliffhangers
Short StoryThis is a book of just the beginnings of stories that I have scribbled down in notebooks, and spare pieces of paper. Most of them will be cliffhangers, and I will not be doing continuations of any of the chapters, so do not ask. You have been warned.
