A small spark. That's all it takes to start a fire. That spark kindles the spirit. Your spirit erupts into flame. It glows, brighter and brighter. Small embers caught on a breeze soar into the inky blackness of the sky. The night grows cold, but your fire is burning. The darkness is crying to you. It wants you to embrace it. Your flame dwindles; the night cries again. The embers cease to float. Your flame diminishes. Nothing is left but the cold and black night. A few coals still faintly glow, waiting for the spark to return.
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories
Short StoryThis is a collection of my short stories! Poems are being moved into their own book, so be sure to check that out if you like poetry! This is updated spontaneously so don't expect too many regular updates.
