Crumbs of souls gather around the furnace.. rubbing shoulders, shaking hands, and fanning the flames together. In time the crumbs become a single soul that moves about with haunting wisdom and hysterical freedom, and if it stands still long enough and the people listen close enough, they will find the crumbs of each soul that gathered on a dark, cold, winter journey.
n.r.Williams
No comments:
Post a Comment