Mytwosentences 190 (Dying To Know 14)

In an unflinching formation that featured a hint of pugnacity, spotted sea birds carefully maneuvered above a clandestine, rock-ribbed island located almost twenty miles northwest of Skellig Michael.

Lost amid the ferocity of a continuously raging ocean and unknown to even the most detailed nautical charts, decades of maritime vox populi dismiss the tiny island as an eerie myth.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 189 (Dying To Know 13)

This time the quiet air seemed to focus her scattered thoughts, instead of transporting them to muddled longitudes and convoluted cerebral precincts that constantly flickered from just beyond arm’s length.

Allie backed up two or three steps, knelt down, and picked up a fairly hefty, discharged syringe with dried blood on the outside… but the disturbing crimson color was also on the inside.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 187 (Dying To Know 11)

Her milky white midriff was thinly drawn, ribby, perhaps even emaciated… but Allie Carraig was experiencing a physical and introspective resurgence of soul, that in all likelihood would unshade the mystic margin between life and death.

As a black and comfortless sky was developing over Dock 19, actually a wasteland tagged Dock 19, the encroaching mass, now more amoeba than hominid, drifted up to the very tip of Allie’s nose.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 186 (Dying To Know 10)

Besides the tight rope cable around her neck, Allie wore nothing but faded black jeans, a thick cotton T-shirt, and scuffed work boots whose untied laces hung stiffly askew.

She pulled at the base of her cinereal shirt, tore a 5″ swath all the way around, and twisted up an effective tourniquet for her right arm, which was now completely numb.

(Written by Edward Roads)