The sour smell of rancid water seeps through the air like a spy. It slides over the piles and through the papers. Somehow, it maneuvers through the mountains of treasured trash no human could progress. Behind them, miraculously unburied, it finds the human, the origin of the stagnation: equally infected.
50 Word Short Story: Stagnant Hoard
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He was swimming through a sea of winds that spun and whirled without moving as they shouted, calling out to each other in panicked voices. Their cries buffeted him and sent him reeling from one to the other. Each burst burned, and although Matt tried to right himself, his body wouldn’t […]