Snapshot :: “Night Ride”

He had feared he’d discover a sea of explosive wreckage; riding through the night, he’d dreaded the thought of sorting through broken buildings, choking on vapors of black smoke and soot, tiny bodies buried beneath charred mass and ashes.                               

Instead, in the early hours of dawn, the field before him was a breathing ghost of fog and soft loam. Silence hung thick as a wet woolen blanket over the treetops, as if his home had vanished into mist.

© Pearl Bayou 2017


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