This is the second chapter of my month-long work of fiction, NOV.
Soil. Dirt. Mud. Pedolith. Step, —, —, —. From above, drip, —, —. And in the nose what you may call the pleasing scent of petrichor or the mucky pong of mud.
Not far? OK, — far. Duly —ed: that has varying con—ations.
And these shoes: How did Spoiler get them that distance into this lexical jungle without a speck on them? Like someone from a movie.
But the first building at the emergence from vegetation into habi— bears an invi—, a welcoming set of letters: INN. Continue reading