A breeze lifting that unruly lock of hair, murmuring leaves whispering something, figures...part human, part animals walking aimlessly on the street, pages of books written hundreds of years back turning on their own, clouds overpowering the sun... and the alarm rings and I head back to editing a story on 'how to be size zero'.
2 comments:
you seem to have become part of the J literary movement - utter nonsense!!!
I still stand by it
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