Tale Weaver #210

“The circle of an empty day is brutal and at night it tightens around your neck like a noose.”

A while ago we could fill our empty days with humor, secret fantasies, sayings of love, passionate embraces, soft kisses, whispered innuendos, witty jokes. Now all of that is gone, like a vase holding a dead and withered bouquet, now looked upon with sadness. Nothing makes you feel this loss like the darkness of a lonely night.



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