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Passage time stands still

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Stepping into the shimmering darkness of the landscape, he cast about him seeking the speaker whose voice seemed to echo from the distance louder than it spoke from the nearby. Soft, subtle, a whisper drifting on the insubstantial breeze; her voice drew him like an intoxication he could not deny and serrated through him, as chilling as ice drawn across exposed skin.

The barren surroundings offered no evidence of her existence. Stretching outward toward a rose-hued horizon awash with stars, the rocky terrain undulated like a serpent, beguiling perception and tempting intrepidity. Her voice compelled him into the void.

He followed.

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~Morgan~

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. This Flash Fiction piece is a sequel to Passage, which I wrote in response to Sue Vincent’s #Writephoto weekly photoprompt.

Part Two – Time Stood Still

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Beautiful Original Photograph by: Matt Payne

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