Hi guys!
I know most of you are visual artists, but maybe you’ll appreciate some written art too.
This is my attempt of writing literary prose.
Here is an excerpt from the story. You can read the whole thing on my site. Enjoy!
The Sun, that coward, hid behind the new sky’s milky white. Clouds descended from the firmament to meet in the streets. As thick fog they lingered, like unwanted guests, hiding what was there to be hid. The air hung heavy, the grass was damp with dew on the old sod.
In a trifling town — not sure if even God knows where — a young man stood in front of a decrepit house, keenly observing its number. It read four and ten. He noticed how rusty they had gotten and how the decades left a grimy, brown line under them.
Certainly as uninviting as ever, he thought, exhaling a weighty breath. He looked at the gate, then through it into the old garden, now eaten by rot, debating whether he should enter or not. Maybe He’s not even home, he wanted to think. Really wished, more than anything.
“Vincent?” A voice, cutting through the thick fog, called his name from behind. Surprised, he spun around and saw a friend from the past, looking a bit older, more rough. Head shaven clean, wearing tight jeans, big nylon jacket, pushing a bike up the street that was cratered and rugged. “Lost and is found,” his friend said with a grin. Read on.
