Ennic (ennic)

The fog hadn’t lifted, and I was glad. It made the forest feel like a dream I hadn’t finished yet. Each tree emerged like a thought I’d forgotten to finish, each footstep quiet like a promise. I walked with care, not because I was lost, but because I didn’t want to wake up.

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• 33 reactions

Beneath the ash-lidded eye of volcano dreams fire, tongue bright with venom. Smoke knots air into nooses greased with heat, and I drink its chokehold raw, gagging on prayer soft as embers gnawing through ribs nailed bright with grief.

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Trains rolling through cafe streets.

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Some detours are the best part of the trip.

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• 18 reactions