Experimenting with surrealistic imagery. It is weird writing with vague dreamy imagery, while still holding onto the basics like plot and character. It is perhaps harder to pull everything together so that by the end, the reader is aware of everything.
Everything was quiet. No birds squawked their annoyance at my presence. No insects sang love songs across the vast expanse of where I knelt before the leak. My frantic heart pounded silently in my chest. My labored breathing evoked no noise. No stuttering inhale nor ragged exhale filled my ears with its crackling rush of wind as I watched the heavy water spurt from the hole in the wall.
Ignoring the unnatural silence, I stared with dumbfounded eyes at the ragged hole drilled into the dirty tan wall. Mortar cracks of the wall were caked with dirt and grime because the wall dared to exist in a foreign land. In an eternity above the wall’s gushing wound, great forests of thick green leaves and brown underbrush silently breathed on me. The eyes of the thicket pleaded with me to stop the discharge of fluid from its depths. Continue reading