A Chair

A lone bench sits atop a hill.

The air is still, the forest moves not an inch, and the sit is cold; it has been that way for a long time. You cannot remember the last time you were here, and try as you might, you fail to access any semblance of a memory related to it. Where even is this actually? You try to remember once again, but, comically, fail again. A blur, your mind is. An emotion filters throughout your body; frustration, sadness, anger? You cannot tell, and it completely subsides before you can even attempt to identify it.

Instead, you sit upon the bench, feeling beckoned by it's presence.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License