[…] The surround of neglect and abandonment was almost tangible among the fallen trunk, which could have been hit by ragged wings.
“I’m material outwards, barely existing, unnoticed worthwhileness,” a gentle susurrus from canopies.
“Stay away if you don’t mean it,” she winced for a whisper that had fondled after two bygone weeks, was the fairest, intangible wind. How come she newly hears it now?
But was so quiet out of the sudden, that she turned around, took a whirling step, two, three. She noticed to be in a lawn with an alluring forest-shade being nearby. She straightened her spine to open dewy-eyes more from constant squints. Only then she could see through the overshadowing influx on the verdant leaves. Light coming through a relief.
“Nothing is beautiful”, she quoth on the contrary to the cue, “Not all rooms indoors need to be filled,” that sorely closed her eyes for a long moment, once again, but she was in move. She was unstoppably running eyes closed. Yes, straight into the forest, darkness, unknown.
– © Samuel Sylf
Such way of life, there are hidden design, layouts, troves, heartfelt persons, who are not in but a seemingly front of people.
– © sylfidi
Pipette a flask of my chemistry.
[…] Then you notice–after you had cleansed tables, sharpened the knives–that gales had been broken into the kitchen.
[…] But calmly, it’s a walk before one can run: hey guys, you forgot to do your duties; let me show you the way.
[…] Differences. Earlier times of your own kitchen, in your previous lives,–define how to handle the dire traits,–before you ended up in someone else’s kitchen.
[Stays cleansed, ‘when I keep it clean.’ Things in their places after use.]
– Perhaps you could be bowled over by my recipe.