Krystle Vermes
The Golden Hour
I snuffed out my cigarette and looked up at the sun to gauge the hour. Noon was quickly approaching, meaning the gates to the garden were about to open. After stamping out the lingering flame with my left hoof, I started walking toward the center of the maze. I let my mind wander for a few minutes, thinking about who I might meet today…
Distinguished Writer of the ArtAscent Gardens call for entry. To see the full body of work, grab a copy of the ArtAscent Art & Literature Journal Gardens issue.
