Thorne Part Two — Cyclops Lair
By: Susanne Thomas
The road twists around the foothills in the dwarven plains.
Discarded limestone lines the trail,
stopped by gravity and waiting to be needed.
Bright green shines against the dazzling stone.
Thorne sits still, dreaming as the sun rises.
His fire from the cold night slowly extinguishes its life.
There was a lesson in that moment,
that moment when it reaches the limit
and begins to choke itself out of existence.
His foot scrapes through the char and ash,
uncovering the buried food he left there the night before.
Breakfast now served, he eats as he travels.
Trail after trail crosses his path,
promising easier fruit to harvest than his chosen goal.
The grass disappears, and the rocks diminish,
not in number. But in size.
The rounded edges of the outcroppings become sharp.
The lair of the Cyclops was near, and Thorne's mouth grew dry.
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