Gabriel Zammit

Closed Eyes

I stood in a field of grey soil as the woman walked away. Great flocks of starlings crossed the sky in the distance, and somehow, I knew that somewhere a train was approaching. Her hair was black, black as the birds and the broken feathers they left in their wake…

Distinguished Writer of the ArtAscent Abstract call for entry. To see the full body of work, grab a copy of the ArtAscent Art & Literature Journal Abstract issue.

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