Empty Comments

Nothing. Just a clear sky on a dulling day. A deserted street with waving flags on painted posts. The regimentation of complete uniformity. The lack of empathy in silent sorrow.

I march to where they are buried in a dark graveyard of black nodding heads, painted with wide staring eyes, and grimacing teeth. I have taken a backward step to move me forward on a sinking bog, squelching, climbing to who knows where.
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