Tuesday, March 4, 2014

100 Words a Day 566 La Pintura Negra 9/15

The landscape was barren and grey. Hovering above the twisted land were three hideous women, each as grotesque as the ruined land they surveyed. Their focus was on the only moving thing for miles, a man. He walked with slumped shoulders. One of the women held a skein of fine thread. The shimmering line ran down to the man and bound his hands behind him. At the behest of one of her companions, the woman surrendered the skein to her sister, who held a pair of scissors. With no emotion, she cut the thread and the man fell down dead.

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