She grins and nods down to simply hold onto Malina's arm.

#ProcGen #fiction

They left a visible thing; it's a sensation of being was confined to one side while she went hunting, dominated by the fact that without it, I might just be empty in my paw when someone mentioned something off the corners.

#ProcGen #fiction

All this worrying seemed to reach the maximum amount of fracturing it could withstand, there was crisis after crisis in various financial sectors.

#ProcGen #fiction

I nod, brushing fingertips over the course of my face relaxes.

#ProcGen #fiction

Kris took another long drink from the south-facing double french doors.

#ProcGen #fiction

You told me how — and you were telling me, walking that day were strangely shaped and didn't make sense.

#ProcGen #poetry

Even now, a week out, I'm starting to lose touch with the visions, I can only traverse in one direction It is eleven inches between who I am asleep The world changes around me.

#ProcGen #poetry

My poor-weasel's easel of the dumpster catches my eye and I feel more connected with them about it.

#ProcGen #fiction

The ride up was uneventful, a mere two hours from home life.

#ProcGen #fiction

I lounged in my mind, wondering if this question would come with it.

#ProcGen #fiction