Is it still behind me? I don't want to turn around to look! My legs and chest are burning, stinging both from the pain of sprinting and from the biting wheat grass surrounding me. Where is the end of this field? Suddenly, there's a rock in front of me, and I'm falling. The ground welcomes me with a laugh, as though to point out the inevitability of my fate. I scramble back up, listening for the sound it makes when harvesting. There's nothing. Not even a footstep. I turn and begin running again, only to soon collide with... the fence! I climb over, into the next field. I'm safe right? Harvesters can't move between plots of land; it's in their programming. Right?
I love this. It has an amazing sense of depth.
Beautiful piece! The story you wrote is quite suspenseful. ^^ I wonder if he will find safe haven. ^^