DARYL DIXON

very experimental story-

The water trickles and falls along the stream line. The moss is thick and full with small flowers and mushrooms. Sunlight beams from the trees canopies.

"You're still here."

My thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice.

"We are still here."

My shoulder is tugged a bit. The feeling of hair tickling my neck. Along with a small head resting against mine.

This comfort helps to silence the pain and loss I'm stuffing deep inside.

The sound of the stream echos through the forests leaves.

"Yeah, we are.."