In my opinion, I'm not a particularly good story-weaver, nor a good thought-spinner. I'll try my best, though, because what's the point of life without trying?
For now, just come save me while I drown so we can, once again, glide over the rippling glass sea; our wings dripping wax like Icarus but unlike him, we won't, and don't, fall.
Following
Sign up to join the largest storytelling community
or
Story by Serendipity
twenty-four hours at a time
[as long as you are distracted, there is hope]
a poem on the differences of day and night and how they are bo...