Centre’s edge

Slowly but surely, a past formed in the present, tiny Tintown revealed again. The tiny mountain in the background — a hill, really — being the link.

Suddenly he was there, staring at The Void.

Not as big as he thought it’d be. Not really big enough to crawl into, even. His mind settled on the club. Shakespear’s, he found out.

“Hucka D.,” he said when awakening. “You were right.”

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One response to “Centre’s edge

  1. Pingback: Mr. Chicken | Sunklands

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