September 2, 2008

He walks,
wheat crackling under his boots
as he stripps his way through the field
shouldering a Barrett M468 rifle.
Dust settling on an immaculate surface
of composure.
His feet follow the path,
another has tread here before.
Beads of sweat on the forehead
mirror an abandoned sun trapped.
Concentrating on future steps
circumference blurs, and an unfortunate
wind breathing over the fields ahead
goes unnoticed.
As it arrives to kiss his skin
and ripple through camouflage fabric
he stops.
Observing for a first time
the shallow movements of the fields.
Her allure.
Abandoning the path, he enters.
Wind blowing hair across his face
Fervid hands closing around bundles of wheat.
He stumbles and fear arrives
where pleasure was waiting.
Reaching for the rifle in panic,
he runs back to the path,
and fires
into the wind.

by Case Tomorrow.

Written in AM’s “Wheat Field”. All his builds are exceptional in producing a unique and captivating atmosphere. personally I love the space…it gives me room to think.

The Wheat Field

The Quiet


Refuge and Expansion


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