drifting from the sky,
beams of light interrupted by their silent descent,
the tree sways,
growing slightly lighter as it's precious blossoms drift to the ground,
fragments of the past,
drifting silently,
making way for the future.
In a doorway outside of a wall,
There sat a young woman named Vall
She wanted help, please
She was missing her keys
For she'd locked them inside, damn it all
I have seen lesser gods dancing on my street. I have asked for their names.
Come again?
The water for the tea is boiling. I hope you don't mind, but I need to leave. I hope you don't mind. I really hope you don't mind. I will stay, I will continue this conversation, but you can't hold it against me.
You don't believe me.
I have heard the wind patter the leaves at my doorstep like the footsteps of tree children playing.
I am nowhere near death. Why do you ask?
This is not about dying.
I have wanted to...