Cameo


There she sits, hands and feet in the stocks, long blond hair streaming in the wind, her mouth set as if she is grinding her teeth rather than smiling. A once in a lifetime photo opportunity. Looking at it in her viewfinder from the small end of time's telescope, the onlooker creates a perfect triangle, a relationship completed by being seen.  


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The Thrum

  I listen to the thrumming of the wind These trees tell stories of a time, not so different for some, The climb is still as steep, Though t...