It was the last oak on a desolate, forgotten island. Only the crows gathered there now to thread yesterday's memories into a rosy evening. Only the crows took the time to weave the fabric of night into new sunrises and fresh wisdom. #microfiction
— Gemma Wiseman (@AuraGem) October 5, 2018
Tuesday, 9 October 2018
it was the last oak...
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