Sip

Sip

Sip sip I drip my whiskers in ambrosia - the gold of liquids. My pupils dilate at a snif pure fresh air of dreams. Transported away. Gone out. Jolted with energy I run past hurdles faced. Lightning at heart reverbing all insides upside up and down. Released, the rush passes. I wait a brief minute before I sip, sip again.

One Page Stories

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Maybe ยฏ\(ใƒ„)_/ยฏ Great

Personal site of Ondล™ej David

curious creator, writer, designer, futurist

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