Micro Fiction: The Path 12 September 28, 2020 by Elizabeth Drake When Eva could see again, she was surrounded by gnarled and twisted trees stripped of their leaves. A bitter wind cut through her jacket. There was no sign of the swirling lights. And there was no sign of home. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)MoreClick to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading... Related