Thought
Time.
He’s walking near the edge of the cliff, steps strange, movements stiff. Frowning, I concentrate past the blurriness at where he is heading. By the looks of it, he’s walking right to the edge. Maybe I should call out to him, to see what he is doing, but against my better judgment, I keep quiet, instead opting to just watch the immortal.
That is, until he stops in his place, staring out over the edge of the cliff. And then, he falls, straight over the cliff
Bab Populer