He swears he loves me. I have an easy time believing him, because he keeps repeating it.
You pass me a note folded into a cat’s cradle and stroke my chipped Milky Way nail polish as I accept it.
Pretty much the best short story I’ve read on WordPress. They call me the Woodwose. But they know that I am the forest; I am the canopies and the wind and the soil underneath. I have been, ever since I inhabited its heart long ago, and settled again in another still, in the heart of […]