The sunlight is coming. Horrible, cruel sunlight. Better the dark. Better for hunting. Better for eating.
But where to hide now that molten, baleful eye returns to the sky?
It skitters this way and that. Twitching. Searching.
Then a dark hole. Cool. Quiet. Inviting.
The scorpion scuttles into the shoe.
Life, in a word, has kept me away. I have been writing, but on other longer form things that may or may not find there way here. For now I will continue with a flurry of shorts…