Miotas
  • Reads 59
  • Votes 3
  • Parts 12
  • Time 49m
  • Reads 59
  • Votes 3
  • Parts 12
  • Time 49m
Ongoing, First published Jun 18, 2019
And the fiddler was laughing.
We all were.
His feet burnt and bled and nobody seemed to care that the ground was painted red.
And he laughed and danced along.
Running now in sprinting circles, a maddening ceilidh.
His legs felt heavy as stone and he was frozen in that granite dance.
Screaming and laughing.
And nobody heard.
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