Very excited about a short short story that I wrote about Sasquatches, so I am going to share this different, previously unpublished one. The two stories are vastly different from one another, but the Sasquatch one you'll have to wait a few months to read, so enjoy this one instead:
What is Real
The daylight unfolds around them huddling together, burrowing deeper into the sleeping bag, bundled in blankets—a giant cocoon in the middle of the campsite. Sleep still clings to their brains.
The fire burned down to coals long before, and those that remain glow with afterlife, sending off faint waves that warm their spirits more than anything. The cold pierces through like needles, sending shivers through their bodies, and they absorb into each other to fight them off.
Laying there, in a daze, sharing the same breath, the world pulsates to life around them as flashes of twilight patter against their brains. There is just enough of a clearing overhead, that when they look up, it is into a wishing well, and, for just an instant, they can see the future…
Birds chirping, the sun’s rays gaining potency, they linger as long as possible, shutting out pangs of real life, getting in touch with what is real.
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