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Later still, we are leaves whose edges have started to acquire a yellow tinge. The autumn wind is brushing across us and hurts us. It can not tear us away from the branch, not yet, but its attacks are painful. We shiver, clinging to the branch, and staring at the sky. The outlines of the distant planet are s…
Nevena Pascaleva
🦋 Marie A. Rebelle
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Well said, love this analogy.
🦋 Writer of raw, open, honest fact & fiction - always about life. | Owner: Serial Stories & The Patient's Voice | Editor: Tantalizing Tales 🦋
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