It's raining
The ghost shuffled off into the hallway, up to the roof to look out at the misty city. Parts of him fall behind like crackling leaves. I gather them up and put them in an old soap box.
As the light of morning fades in, his breath is quieter, and he slowly disappears until evening.
I pity him that he cannot leave this old building. Yet it gives me all the more hope to do so.
I will travel to the coast, where cyprus and juniper grow.
The ghost shuffled off into the hallway, up to the roof to look out at the misty city. Parts of him fall behind like crackling leaves. I gather them up and put them in an old soap box.
As the light of morning fades in, his breath is quieter, and he slowly disappears until evening.
I pity him that he cannot leave this old building. Yet it gives me all the more hope to do so.
I will travel to the coast, where cyprus and juniper grow.
her feet never touching the ground
she saw a place with books old and used
wandered into their dust filled dens
and there, she found her muse
to rest her head on her hand,
hot coffee to stir
a table to stretch out
french novels to read...
she longed for the simple
in what easily could be,
but now she had a purpose:
to bring her silence to me.