He learned the story mattered more than the telling.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
Time brushed him lightly, yet shaped him deeply.
He exhaled carefully, afraid to break himself.
The dust danced to a song older than memory.
It spoke truths he had buried.
Every reflection showed a self he had abandoned.
He held storms gently until they calmed.
He lived in emptiness and found it spacious.
She slept to the storm and woke washed clean.
He realized the unlocked gate had never required a key.
It burned quietly until she learned slowness was divine.
He walked by exhaling fear and inhaling courage.
