Wanderlust
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Thora stepped from the mossy earth onto the dirt and stone of the ruins.
Her aimless wandering had led her straight here, through the mountains and past a whole sea, to stand in front of the ruins of something that looked mechanical. Not mechanical, but it definitely did something once. It could have been a marvel of technology for the time.
Now it sat in rust and years of soiling, completely ruined by time.
There was something poetic about that; how all time can do is ruin, but she was not a poet. She was a girl who ran away from her responsibilities. She ran so fast she forgot to grab a blanket on her way out and found herself standing in front of ruins that could not protect her from the cold wind off the water behind her.
It smelled like the sea and wet sand. Everything was wet this close to the cliff's edge. The sea spray could reach at least this high when the waves came in hard enough.
How would she write a poem about this?
Sea spray like rain? Like a torrent of emotion? Like tears?
She was not a poet, but she tried to find meaning in the ruins as she wandered past more metal and stone. She could only come up with half-baked prose and pathetic metaphors that would have earned a ruler to her palms at home. At the very least, it served as a distraction as the first patter of rain hit her shoulders.
Not even animals were stupid enough to call this place home. There were no signs of life outside of the ancient structure that reached from the earth in tendrils of grotesquely mangled metal.
If she were lucky, she’d die of exposure out here. She wasn't a poet, but it would be a poet’s death to die in a place like this.
About the author
Caitlyn is a 2nd year professional writing student known for her hyper fixations, obsessive writings, and pink hair. She is an avid fantasy reader, writer, and finds inspirations in all aspects of life.
