The air seemed thicker those days, like space was a lens, magnifying and distorting everything in sight. It was hot and it drew something vital from those caught in it.
My brother and I were two such bugs trapped in the amber of that burning summer.
Some days we struggled against the gummy stuff, trying to move without much luck. Occasionally we quickened and the tar-pit air would crystallize around us.
That’s where the story begins, in the apache tears of clarity pressured from passing time, invisible gems found in friendship’s night.
My brother and I were two such bugs trapped in the amber of that burning summer.
Some days we struggled against the gummy stuff, trying to move without much luck. Occasionally we quickened and the tar-pit air would crystallize around us.
That’s where the story begins, in the apache tears of clarity pressured from passing time, invisible gems found in friendship’s night.
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