Wind sings loudly hear, dancing with the leaves of the tree.
It fills my lungs with cold, clean freshness.
I inhale deeply. It carries the smell of smoke. I can hear crackling and laughter from somebody's barbecue nearby.
This place is so different from the city. So quiet. Here I can concentrate on individual sounds. Like the coos of birds calling out to one another. The rattling of cicadas. The whispering breeze. The sorrowful wind, wailing in the woods.
It gives me an undertone to hear my thoughts, slow them down and pick apart each one.
Here I can see the colors. More than just grey.
Here I can embrace the wildness of what flutters in my head. The pure chaos of all of this.
YOU ARE READING
Entropy
Short StoryA story about love, despair, and chaos, told in fragments. Her screams echoed inside the glass coffin. I heard them. She scratched her fingernails bloody on the hard case that kept her inside. I felt the blood trickle down my own hands. She pounded...
