Inspired by a prompt from Jim Murdoch
It begins and ends with roots. Rooted in history. Rooted in blood. Rooted in dirt.
The dirt is fundamental. Things rise up out of dirt, out of rocks. Everything comes back to dirt.
The roots wend their way down. They crumble cities and split mountains, but without drama. Drama is artificial. Roots are natural, and very businesslike. A little at a time, they pry stones apart, gnaw mortar, spread and spread and while they break it up, they hold it together, and you’d never know it to look at it but it’s already falling apart.
Then one day someone… pushes.
Whimpers From My Bed Of Woe
2 days ago