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Author of 3 Stories |
Illyria is watching the apple tree grow
She has been not quite dead for such a very long
time
To just observe entropy get defeated, even if it is purely a local phenomenon, it is
nice?
It feels right to just sit, and remember the time that there were are and will
be.
She stands up and the small mistletoe that had grown around her body breaks, so fragile
life
She pets absent-minded the dragon on its head
Takes a bite of an apple
bitter
She wonders what Wesley would want to do
now
Maybe, will she ask him?
Time