Loneliness gets to all of us.
Loneliness gets to all of us.
you begin to wander off the forest path, following a small creek facing north. water soaking your feet, then your ankles, then going as far up as to your knees.
The land around you becomes darker and muddier, with mangrove roots endangering your steps. The green around you becomes less and less dense until disappearing altogether, leaving only water to travel alongside you.
as you keep on struggling through the muddy waters, the sun starts to set. all around you nothing but pink clouds and . the occasional hillock.
one of these holds a small cottage and intrigued by it, you exit the water, legs drenched, and walk the small land.
clothes out to dry are moving with the wind, wooden clothespin holding them from flying away, They’re still soaked. either because they’re freshly washed or because the waves crashing on land keep them from drying.
Through the cottage windows you can see a faint reflection of the forest you came from, wondering if the felines miss you or if you really are just another feeding hand.
The door is loosely shut, almost inviting you in without pressure or expectations of you really entering. You could take a walk on the shore to calm your thoughts. It's just you in here.
returning to the shore of the island to rest, you see many glass bottles, some still intact, others lost their cork and soggy this text is all that remains inside them.
