A GAME

  1.  

    Green-glassed walls hold us in.

    The ground rumbles and shakes.

    The trees lift up their trunks,

    Pulling their roots from the dirt.

    They shuffle closer to us,

    Bushes following in their wake.

    A tall plant opens its jaws,

    Sharp teeth protruding from its mouth.

    Squeaking bats follow us out,

    Flapping their wings at our heads.

    We must escape this house.

    This is not a game I care to play.

    THE DEAD GAME

    Kindle

    http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

    Nook

    http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

    Source:
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s