It’s lonely up here, one doesn’t meet humans too often, mostly the locals are ravens and rabbits and moles, and the occasional eagle. But I like it, this is my place, where I dream, and remember. There are sweet memories, and also dark and stormy ones.
Yes, there is a storm coming this way now. I love it, the low clouds, a drop of rain here and there, I can feel the strong winds already, snaking through my empty eye sockets, resonating in my skull. “The Old One”, used to call me the villagers, when there was still a village nearby, long ago.
Nowadays the Old One merely enjoys the peace, and the storm.
…if walls could talk…
There used to be a fix it show about old houses with that title in the states. Amazing what was found between the walls.
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I can relate to that 😉
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Reblogged this on Of Glass & Paper and commented:
Nowadays the Old One merely enjoys the peace, and the storm.
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