"I hope you will go out and let stories happen to you, and that you will work them, water them with your blood and tears and your laughter till they bloom, till you yourself burst into bloom. " ~Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

small stone: day thirty

Thick dove-grey clouds make a mad dash across the heavens. Little birds push against the wind, their bodies rising and dipping on the swirling currents. Rain spits down from the uncertain sky-  tiny drops of liquid that feel so cool on my skin in the warm, heavy air that presses against me. In the distance, a siren briefly wails its warning, only to fall silent again as danger wanes.

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