There are things, small and ephemeral, that slowly become a part of you for reasons unknown. Like the permanent ribs embossed on the surface of a leaf, the changing lines on a palm. The specks of light captured inside a falling raindrop, the flicks of darkness weeping beneath a burning fire…

Natural, impossible, everlasting things that you cannot cut out of yourself without tearing yourself asunder in the process.

Unfortunately for me, that is what you became…

~ 77 words ~

Micro Tales – Fiction/Prose in a hundred words or less.

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