JohnpaulSchroede
@johnpaulschroede
The river moved like a thought unspoken—slow, deep, and filled with meaning. As I watched a heron step into its own reflection, something stirred inside me. The silence was not empty; it was a sanctuary. My own heartbeats felt louder here, as if they finally had space to echo. Nature didn’t demand a smile or a reply. It only asked that I stay long enough to feel something real.
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goodchop
@apolozc
A moth lingers where the lamp used to be.
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JohnpaulSchroede
@johnpaulschroede
The doormat still greets no one.
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goodchop
@apolozc
A horseshoe rusts above the kitchen door.
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