Garden
(Recommended reading music)
See the gray, ash-colored grass. It is drained of color. It is dry, but just as alive as you are. A pale sunlight casts itself over you, but you remain cold, scaling the rising hill, the grass silent beneath you. The crest is revealed; a small garden laid bare before you. You let yourself lie beneath the stems of gray and dust-colored petals, hand finding the stone slab which protrudes from the dry, loose dirt; you lower yourself to the ground. Here, you return to rest.
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