the futile search for rhythm in rain-fall.
and something deep within her seemed to pull outward, out of itself and away from her, as if by a metal spring seated in her stomach, that loosened its coils and stretched, hopelessly, toward some urgent, unfathomable destination
posted by swirl of anonymity @ 7:10 PM
1 Comments:
:)
sorry. i have no creative spark at the moment, and so cannot continue the collaborative story.
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