Her Chicken Scratch / Uncategorized

Sleep Walking

“If I could give you one thing, it wouldn’t be anything material.”

“A gift? What then?” He asked, stirring awkwardly on the stone step. Its bitter chill soaked up his slippers and into his thin pyjamas.

“A way to feel truth.” It said, before blurring away.

  Version 2

Writing and Photo by Alecia Writes


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