eight

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"Without a choice,
I pick up my scattered self from under the moonlight."



Time did not wait for him; the world around him spinning to the rhythmic beat of each passing hour. Like people work and sleep, the sun rose and fell in an endless cycle. The world was not so forgiving, but he was too young to give up.

So he had no other choice but to stand up and run.

hiraeth | k.thWhere stories live. Discover now