Cold. Brittle squeaky snow. Bone white bleached landscape bleached bone white. Sets cold bones to rattling in their shell of pink muscle, fat and skin. Lost the insulating hair of the original design, lost the mindset of survival, lost the graceful bend of spine.
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"I will breakfast from the cupboard where uneaten dreams are kept"
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"I foresee the successful future of a very mediocre society."
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The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology