A bit of randomness I wrote from the prompt of ‘one room’.
Everything exploded in a kaleidoscope of red and orange, and the next thing I knew I was standing in a completely white room with no doors or windows, and I hadn’t the slightest idea how I got there.
After being around goats for the majority of my life, I have come to the conclusion that they are quite possibly the most amusing and enjoyable animals to have. They each have their own unique personality, whether it be grumpy, annoying, quiet, wild, etc., and they are—though it may be a little-known fact—very affectionate, and often think they are lap goats even when they weigh 70 pounds. This is an account of what I have learned from raising Nigerian Dwarf goats for the past twelve or so years.
A warm hand brushes against my forehead, a tongue clucks at the too warm temperature. My hair is smoothed from my clammy skin, a gentle pressure tucks my blankets around me. The blanket was a quilt I had crafted, I remember the beady eyes of Hulk staring at me, threatening to “Hulk Smash”, why that angry green face has stayed with me, is something I have never understood.
Debris flies clouding the air, pelting back to the earth. Screams echo, more broken and hollow then any human has the right to sound. He clutched at his arm, his hand tacky with his own blood, it seeping out with each beat of his erratic heart. His comrade, his brother in arms lays beside staring up at him, eyes glazed over, there isn’t a single scratch on his face, his torso ends at the edge of his ribcage, and the vermin gnaw on his exposed flesh.
Joined at the Authorship 