Somewhere, far away, sits a city on water, it's flamboyant streets empty if it's usual bustling Passengers and Tourists, The houses broken and decrepit, look almost eerily like peoples faces frozen in horror, eternally ****** to remain empty.
In the center of this town lays another place, a place claimed to be a city of it's own, the stone towers and shapes make up most of the city's structures and buildings, The grassy pathways make the city seemingly innocent, young, unharming, On one such stone shape however, lays a hand print dragging itself downward with a single inscription upon its front. "Whatever You Do, Don't Blink"
a rewrite of a short story i did a while back, if i ever find the original i'll post it on here