The world is teeming. Billions of us, rubbing together like ants under a glass. Engulfed in that madness, it's hard to know who to reach out to. But...
Another micro-fiction piece from the 2013 Prose Pentathlon. A repost, but one I think people might like in these times of enlightened views about the earth and our relationship to it.
Tom was the only one awake when the first sound came. The floor was hard under his sleeping bag, and he couldn't get comfortable. The others' snoring...