All I could hear was the laughter of birds and the wind as a flute through the pass. A cloud approached until it turned the trail dark and cold. Its wisps kissed the flowers and left dewdrops. I followed a new sound. Someone, unseen, sang in a language mysterious to my ears. I searched, but the fog tricked my senses, and I wondered how wise it was to leave the trail. So then I sang a song of my own, lilting, lithe, full of love. It mingled with the hidden singer’s, and soon we smiled into each other’s warm words.
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StretchesThe brain needs to stretch before working out just as much as the body. Welcome to my stretch zone of stories in 100 words, and perhaps other bits. Archives
September 2019
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