a vast orange fissure opens in the face of the earth.
the sky—a mirage of blue and orange—portends darkness.
the canyon, in its grandeur, is nothing more than
a tessellation of orange and black from shadows of unknown.
a measly being stands alone, right by a hungry cliff.
clueless, you are accompanied by aimless tumbleweeds.
they seem to be running away from something.
shouldn't you run away from whatever it is, too?
the wind sweeps the barren landscape, devoid of life.
the sun kisses vivid orange rocks and dirt one last time.
you shout to the seemingly-endless expanse of orange,
but you only hear the burning souls shouting in return.
the darkness slowly envelops your field of vision.
whatever is chasing you is now inching by, bit by bit.
the dusk is fast approaching, but you have nowhere to hide
...and so you run, but the cliff is a dead end.
