Dedication to No-One.
Because No-One reads.
I, Ahana, here-by promise to write at least one passage a day under the condition that each piece can be about anything at all, weather poetic, fictional or journal and of any length, with the intention of self-improvement… As well as the entertainment of No-One.
A feather fell once off a flapping wing and landed a-float in a pool.
A wave caught the feather, from the flailing pheasant of which was shot and fainting in the pool.
A built caught the pheasant, shot from a fellow's gun.
A fellow stood frowning, feet crammed in mud-laden boots.
A layer of mud had been disturbed by a flood, from the pool the river bled into.
A river flushed out the fish, leading to the pool where the flailing pheasant fainted.
A pool where a flailing pheasant fainted was filling with blood from the fowl.
A feather that had landed in the pool originated from the pheasant, who was flailing as it began to faint.