Literary Persuits and other Ramblings

Tag: oneword.com

Writers Block

Her hair was coarse.
Dry as veld grass in winter, and about the same colour. I was certain it had been dyed though.
I guess it made sense.
She was dead after all.

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Mirage

something of an illusion. that is all it was.
I stood there at the edge of something that should of been beautiful. Instead it was desolate, empty and broken.
In the end, it was a mirage

Wistful

it has been a long time, however this time of year always makes me feel wistful.
There is nothing I can do. What has been done is done. There is no turning back. Sometimes I see a glimmer of a hope. But that is all it is.