Fall

tags: , ,

The muffled loud sounds of the Reading festival fill the chill, damp, garden air. My stomach cramps, cramps, and cramps. I think I’m hungry but the slight nausea makes the thought of eating unappealing. The house devoid of cat fluff, balls, toy mice, freshly soiled cat litter, footsteps. It’s too near clinical. I’ll stop sulking when I’ve stopped bleeding.

Fall
4 votes rating 5

3 bits of lovely banter on “Fall”

  1. scarlet writes:

    You miss them when they’re gone 🙁
    Sx

       1 likes

    [reply]

  2. wendy writes:

    Yes. Life is at it’s best when it’s messy. Minimalism has never appealed, though there’s something about the elegant simplicity of frugality, efficiency, re-use creatively…

       0 likes

    [reply]

  3. Indigo Roth writes:

    Missing them is hard x

       0 likes

    [reply]

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