I'll gather them all in a crumpled pile and watch as they writhe and convulse beneath the flame. Suddenly, they are gone. It's tragic that I can't do the same.
Cold winter creeping in with a blizzard and a whiteout without any reason other than, "this is how things are done around here."
Back and forth, the world goes round, and I'm right here, right here, right now, and every word that comes from my mouth can't seem to say please let me out...
The moonlight was irascible that night, and chilled me to the bone though all else was utterly balmy , with a slight breeze.