The penetrating silence of a scorched river. Placid riverflow splashes gold latticework on hardened sand and hardy foliage. A squirrel drowns his thirst in a muddy pocket. Reaching tendrils of dead pine caress the wet hungrily. Swimming between the gaps of debris triggers an explosion of dragonflies. A deflated raft moulders, forgotten, on the steps toward the shore. A far-away siren stone-skips across the water, heralding the filtering of another of the weak and complacent.
1:25 p.m. - 2022-09-08
Recent entries:
What Is It For Nought? - 2022-09-23
A Tilted Frown - 2022-09-23
For A LIttle While Longer At Least - 2022-09-22
This is a Vacation? - 2022-09-21
Perhaps It Is Overtraining - 2022-09-08
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