Forgetting the ghosts that I once belonged to, I leave them in sunflower fields. Walking 20 miles south From here, I realise the world is made of color. The river between Grey and sunflower-yellow is thirty-six thousand feet deep; varying between Colours of you and me. Leaving the cemeteries of grey I find myself somewhere in-between dark and light~ No other colour can describe this; except maybe the world
There’s always a story. It’s all stories, really. The sun coming up every day is a story. Everything’s got a story in it. Change the story, change the world. — Terry Pratchett
Gender:
Points: 60
Reviews: 47