December, 21
The breeze gently blows against the rain chime. It made delightful tinkling noises full of innocence and purity.
A beauty with horns and tails lies fast asleep on a narrow ancient chair, still drunk from the night before. In her hands is a long story, fully of hope and sadness.
A tale of a traveler traveling the vast Rocky Mountains to the galloping river of Shang Shu
A tale of a fisherman, catching fishes on the moon
A tale of a diseased love one whose presence continue to linger on in this world of stories.
She did promise this mortal soul she would write it, didn't she?
-Author's note-
I know this is short but like I did it during history class ok? 😍🫵
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
To Be Written In Your Stories
फैनफिक्शन"Ling, come closer... please." A somber voice ranged in a dark, damped room. Another voice appeared, this time a sigh. A sigh that was as delightful as the morning birds but equally as sad as the first one. Foot steps shifted in the dark room as Lin...
