Writing Prompt 6/28/2013: “Place”

Result of this prompt courtesy of “Part Wild”:

I knew I was in the wrong place, where dust settles and moats of light relax in the air. The Attic, an altar for the forgotten where you can consume the oxigen around you to clear fearful and frazzled thoughts. The only thing to think carefully of now is the sense of someone watching you and how you may feel when at any moment your spine feels as if it will rise from your skin, a bland pit releasing itself from fruit.
It is time to taste fire.
 
 
 
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