through and around; flitting.
I am unfulfilled. Waiting.
Brusk. Wanting.
If I could just find that key, it's made out of moonstone. Shouldn't be hard to find.
But where the fuck is it? How do I use it?
What if it doesn't fit the door I'm trapped behind?
My head is full of cyclones, and debris.
The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.