James Steimle

The Autumn Land

The Autumn Land by James SteimleLike werewolves they scratched at the towering, cracked, brittle, archaic, four-foot structure, bounding to its top.  Standing on the dike between two worlds, they all sighed the dusty exhalations they’d saved since last Halloween.

They stood with mouth flopped open, the wind and bright sun licking and painting their awestruck faces.  Their shivering skin turned gold, but not one person looked at another.  Their minds were possessed.  Their hearts stopped and did not beat again.  They felt the air dry up, cold and dark inside their little bodies.

Jim breathed, but he was the only one.  He knew was he was seeing.

The Autumn Land: Thirteenth Anniversary Edition