I Will Not Play

People who can’t see are not always blind. But the creature holds its hands tight over their eyes. How to adapt when there’s a husk where soul should be? They see the hole, no light, no hope in might to birth a symbiosis. And so they breathe their fetid minty breath, devoid of depth. Perhaps the creature’s hands will always stay, locked in an embrace of lively death.

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1 Response to I Will Not Play

  1. What do you mean, you will not play? Please go on playing!

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