Death unmasks my many skins, each guise a persona of note, yet each a life poorly lived. Starving for understanding, I awake, soul-soaked, upon the shores of Akasha, the keeper of eternity’s dreams. Translucent, my fingers slowly glide across the bindings, each one a volume of my ten thousand lives.
Fliss
27/1/2018 12:15:30 pm
Awesome, Ronald. Spine is still tingling at the message... wake up call... in your story. And all in 50 words. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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