come to me
fiction
edward w pritchard
Come to me as the wind god for today we turn back the time one hour and for that one hour we can converse and I can remember you. Let you remember me as well and see if my original self has changed.
Off you go wind fluttering about invisible and unheard today though it be Sunday. Am I the same struggling to be appropriately me? [1]
Stop wind. Let us talk of rebirth for we have escaped death. Go wind; you to the edge of the universe, I to live one more year.
[1] original idea from Montaigne
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