
Salmon Run
When the leaves turn golden and crisp, fried by the Summer Sun to a tender perfection, the salmon come home to die.
When the leaves turn golden and crisp,
fried by the Summer Sun to a tender perfection,
the salmon come home to die.
Weird experimental piece that took second place in the Quills and Sofas pegasus contest. The prompts were "broken wings" / "hostile skies". It was originally written in 75 minutes. This version has only received minor grammatical edits.

1602 words: Estimated 8 minutes to read