Warmth in numbers, finding solace in a bird that flies away once I give her food.
Needing a light but the embers won’t burn long enough.
Stuck in the middle of nowhere.
My flint finally sparks and lights up my kindle.
I can finally inhale and the warmth has finally reached me.
I sense myself being aware of the objects around me, trees are dancing with their leaves following each steps. I come back home, spending the rest of my life in my quarters.
Only to end up sleeping on a book, that I was reading the night before.
The warmth has left and the bird comes by but without food.
I doubt she will stay.
