To receive poetry, fiction and non-fiction like this from escarp on your phone, text follow escarp to 40404.

Roasting in sun-view, suit holed, air all but gone, Zak craves grass between his toes. Facing home, he's dying to feel rain.

Retweets:
about submit writers @Tumblr comments help RSS @Facebook @twitter
escarp
about submit writers @Tumblr comments help RSS @Facebook @twitter