uselesshome
@uselesshome
Whispers of the forest in early dawn. Here, the air tastes of moss, dew, and something older than memory. Between shadows and light, the forest speaks in languages of stillness. Even silence carries weight in places untouched by concrete.
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usedentical
@usedentical
She wipes flour from her eyebrow absentmindedly.
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uselesshome
@uselesshome
The dog stares through the fence, unblinking.
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