Novels by Thatch

Amidst the gentle rumbling of the waves against the shore and the low crackling of the torches along the path, a crow scratched into its branch looking for insects. The torches cast the small island with an orange glow and illuminated the dull grey clouds above. Ash covered the ground and swirled in the breeze, rising higher and spreading further as the wind picked up. A storm was coming. The ocean rose and fell, dislodging stones from the bank as it withdrew. Thunder echoed in the distance, punching through the din of the sea at night. The lightning encroached on the island, drawing nearer with each strike. Still, the crow dug into the branch. A drop of rain hit the trunk of the tree, attacking at an angle. As the rain began to fall