©2018 by Sydney Jones. Proudly created with Wix.com

 
Misty Woodland

Not wanting to be alone in my own head, I made my way to his room instead of mine. I knew the path by heart; I had walked it countless times. My feet moved on their own accord, for my mind felt too numb to direct them. Not even the portraits could stir me to a conscious mind.

S. N. Jones

 

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