It’s a sweet scent that shares the air in my lungs and imprints the smell on my memory.
It’s a soft silence at 3am when the world whispers to me its secrets.
It’s what you’d never expect but always saw hiding and ready to show itself, if only the right opportunity would arise.
It’s never been here nor there, but lives in a limbo in between.
It never stops to consider what life might be like if it wasn’t afraid, but that’s because it’s too busy being courageous in the land of the unknown, fighting in the war against fear, only to realise that accepting the fear and doing it anyway is to win any war.
About the Creator
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Off the Book
It ended like every other stupid idea. Badly, and alone. I’m researching digital confession ethics, he said. A tech ethicist. He gestured at floating data I couldn’t see then pulled out a physical notebook. Actual paper, fountain pen. He held it up like he was showing me scripture.
By Nicky Frankly5 days ago in Fiction
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