Ax Zimy
@axzimy
I stood where the grass gave way to rock, unsure whether to climb or turn back. I looked up. A hawk circled once, then disappeared. I followed. Not because I needed to reach something, but because movement itself felt like hope. That’s how faith works sometimes—small, instinctive, winged.
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bathroomsocold
@bathroomsocold
No garden is ever wasted space.
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