The Ever Growing Landscape

He can feel the layer of earth on top of him, the dust that has collected over many years, so many years that he barely remembers a time before the growing grime and grit of his shadowed land. He blinks several times, sending a light layer of fungal particles away from his eyelids. Because there is no breeze, though, the particles don't travel very far before drifting lazily to the ground, adding to the landscape, ever growing - though so slowly.

The End

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