The word ‘ebb’ itself feels eroded. Like my once opulent patience or my once abundant temper. Like my hairline. Ebbing. Ever further. Like my days remaining. Like friendships that stood as great cliffs, now feeding oceans. Ever decaying. The innocuous, innocent ebb evolving into the black hole of all things.
Great that you are back in business!
Love
Dit
(I meant Da)
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That is so good. Every word counts. The story resonates and stirs my heart.
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Thank you so much for that lovely comment.
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