Friday, August 2, 2013

"Lantern Gion" by Karhu Clifton

A gentle, little gust of wind sweeps into the room. A room left pristine. A room so clear and clean that the breeze is free to be himself. Free to take a breath and loosen his belt, let out his gut a bit. Let's sit on the floor where we aren't and think nothing for a while. Once we've gone, everything is airy, quiet, and almost still.

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