One writer's experiment to tackle any subject his friends come up with.

The Task of Charon

…I fear not for myself, for what is one soul? My fears are for my people, and the slow creep of oblivion that awaits them.

Beyond the Pale
…All the details that enlivened the world around him had become a sickening draught, one drunk too fully too often, holding nothing new. The timeline of his life had been stretched to an infinitely thin thread, a single piercing note perpetually suspended to form a background keening he’d learned to ignore.

The Drowning World
I saw the slow swallowing of shorelines and the quick erosion of cliffs. I smelled wet earth turning to pungent mould. I felt the saturated ground become a swamp, tasted acrid decay in everything that required light and air, and heard the downpour’s steady hiss, so unceasing that it became inaudible.