Monday, 16 December 2013

The Crown She Wore...

The crown she wore was fashioned from dead things. Flaking, breaking, brown rattling dead things. Strung together on a bramble wire. Walking through the woods, her eyes slid easily to the sights between the stripped branches; a fine white mist here, a tumbledown of pine cones there. There were only dew-flecked squirrels for company. She was their queen.

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