Lead, Kindly Light.

The winter evening drew on, enveloping all, in a shroud of mist and darkness. The clay stove where wood fires burned with the occasional crackle and pop, was where they all huddled together, the dying embers burning orange, reflecting on their faces as they tried to get closer to the heat, tempted to touch the …

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Fleedom

Flee - The Daily PromptI have dug my own grave and prepare to lie in it. With these hands. These grimy hands with dirt embedded in the nails. The soil made soft and pliant with my sweat and maybe some tears as well. The walls are lined with the memories of my own making. Sometimes …

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