Yet another series. If you haven’t discovered yet, I’m a bit fragmented and prefer to work in a million different directions. So please enjoy what I believe to be the best I have so far … in little paragraph installments over the next few days. … Unless I get bored and do something else again. I’ll get wise soon and create a page to list all my series so you, Dear Reader, can follow those that tickle you.
Mowgli squints into the dark jungle ceiling. He grips the limb in his left hand and pauses to listen to his surroundings. A low, mechanical hum emanates up from below. A rhythmic ticking noise stalks him from behind. His breathing heavy, he waits, and feels the slithering beads of sweat roll down this lower back. Up overhead he can see nothing – no light spears through to help make out any shapes. He closes his eyes and waits. In the pitch black of his head, he hears the growl of some sinister creature nearby. His eyes snap open.
There it is again, but this time he recognizes it. His shoulders relax slightly as he acknowledges his stomach’s anger for leaving his meager breakfast unfinished. He closes his eyes again and focuses on his breathing. He will not worry about the growl. There’s only so much cream-of-wheat one should be expected to stand.