Fingerprints

He could smell the coming rain, the melted copper smack of an approaching storm. Gloom was too soft a word.

Their fingerprints stained the dirt, washed away by a thousand rains, but he knew they were still here, visible only at night, only when the silence was inviolable. He wanted to see them again, to test if they were real, if he was real. He could almost hear the echoes of  their laughter, those first brave kisses, and then….

Yes, they were still here, all of them. They were born here.

“David,” she whispered, and he stopped.

Advertisements

11 thoughts on “Fingerprints

  1. He could smell the coming rain, the melted copper smack of an approaching storm.

    There are good opening lines, great opening lines and opening lines that should never be written. This was a great one! Fascinating story, Steven.

    Liked by 1 person

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