A Brief Journey

Wrote a random story fragment today. It goes like this:

You don’t go through the window so much as go with it. It’s not a graceful descent, but the enthusiasm more than makes up for the lack of talent. The flames behind you are like kids at Christmas as winter air surges into the laboratory. The night throws a cocktail of snow, glass and blood straight in your face, and promptly escorts you to the pavement.

Not really sure where it’s going, but I like it.

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