One Word, One Story

The leather benches stank of ancient sweat and stale skin, their cracked green seats bloating beneath the filthy water.

Rats swam through the sewer-foamed chamber, their whiskers twitching as a fresh carcass floated into the room. Ravens perched high in the rafters, cawing and chattering across the dark isle.

The birds would squabble and more would come. They would fill the room as evening fell, fretting and fighting for scraps. 

But the rats knew that their jeers were pointless now.

Another body bumped into the room, its once-fine dress now bloodied and ruined.

The river provided for all.

(c) Tim Austin 2025. Photo by Raghav Srikanth on Unsplash

Suggest YOUR word in the comments below!