When your metal begins to rust unconsolably, and you too lay down and become little sand-fragments of steel and rust, this too will be lost with you forever.
Browsing: existing
I waved at my old friend. He held out his arms. I felt his hot, soothing breath, the skin of his arms grazing my bare back. A firework blew in the pitch black behind my closing eyelids. We talked for ages; he filled me in on what I’d missed.
We are the lucky ones. Why, then, do we feel so unlucky? There are more homeless on the streets every day, turtles prised from their shells.
