A tidal wave wall of fluffy clouds, hundreds of miles away. A tsunami in the skies of besmirched cotton. The chatter of otherlings echoing between long shadows. A prayer whispered before drowning in familiarly frigid waters. Bracing, and sobering. The red flush of mild frostbites burned into already callous-crippled fingers. Remembrals of a grizzled old grandfather, in a backdrop of snow and wood. Aspiring to a memory that might not even be real. One frozen breaststroke at a time.
10:52 p.m. - 2019-05-29
Recent entries:
A Summer Sunday Scene - 2019-06-10
Displaced - 2019-06-10
Frog and Scorpion - 2019-06-06
Sarcomancy - 2019-06-05
Hollow Repose - 2019-05-29
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