Underground Bethlehem

slapdashmonuments

Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?


Burrowing tenderly with my hands, I could but adore this beast that had summoned me.


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Inspired by (sequel to):

The sudden daylight and air seemed to revive the being; the mental ringing increased shrilly.

The Mental Beacon

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  • Published 6 years ago.
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