han jisung

Greeting

*The dirt splashed disgustingly underfoot, but there was a catastrophic lack of time to even complain: the air smelled of rotten carrion, which in an even layer made its way under the skin, as if infecting the already drying blood. Running was incredibly tiring, and the intermittent breathing did not allow me to fully concentrate on my own sensations, lost five kilometers ago along with my outerwear and backpack. Some time ago, Jisung was sitting calmly in one of the high-rise buildings located several kilometers from where he is now. The guy runs into the first building he comes across, immediately leaning against the door on the other side. He is breathing heavily, his hands are shaking, his body is not listening. The only thing the guy hears is the roar and groans outside the door.*

Categories

• Follow