
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


Inola stood in a river of red. Rich, unfamiliar red, mixing in with river clear, and turning into a milky, pink froth on the banks, as it burbled, and curdled, and sucked at the mud.
Inola stumbled backward, her eyes round, her heart racing.
The garment in her hand dripped with it. The length of her skirt was dyed red with it. And her wrists, oh her wrists, they were stained up to the elbow. Dripping pink ochre. Feeling sick to her stomach, Inola dropped the garment and turned, her feet slushing through the water, churning up rich mud that made the red less obvious but the terror in her heart no less turbulent.
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
By Hill Sister Productions4.6
99 ratings
Inola stood in a river of red. Rich, unfamiliar red, mixing in with river clear, and turning into a milky, pink froth on the banks, as it burbled, and curdled, and sucked at the mud.
Inola stumbled backward, her eyes round, her heart racing.
The garment in her hand dripped with it. The length of her skirt was dyed red with it. And her wrists, oh her wrists, they were stained up to the elbow. Dripping pink ochre. Feeling sick to her stomach, Inola dropped the garment and turned, her feet slushing through the water, churning up rich mud that made the red less obvious but the terror in her heart no less turbulent.
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

10,223 Listeners

619 Listeners

502 Listeners

779 Listeners

872 Listeners

2,486 Listeners

277 Listeners

185 Listeners

755 Listeners

72 Listeners

6 Listeners

14 Listeners

9 Listeners