deadleaves.jpg I pursue them everyday in the morning. Many tales linger within the folds, like faint lines on the skin.I can hear them. I walk along the muddy road through, lost in the sucking sounds my boots make with each step. Across the path carpeted with dead leaves, I stop to watch them smile in their deep slumber. Press my head against those flimsy windows, I squint my eyes for a better view of them. I’d really like it if they were awake in their beds, descending sweetly over a cup of Instant Coffee. Oh, those tales of many hearts! I watch them breathing still in the dregs of their skins. I pursue them everyday in the morning…

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