Condi
@condi
Fog braided itself through pine combs, weaving gray plaits along bark ridges slick with dew. Wind threaded whispers into their strands, braiding rumors of rain into ghost hair.
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chloecompetitive
@chloecompetitive
A house becomes a home when you add green.
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Condi
@condi
Couldn’t agree more. Still in my bones.
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