*whispering
(hey guys, I am working on a writing project. Be patient, here is a glimpse of Ch. 17)
He carried a huge pack on his back full of camping gear, food, knick knacks, findings, a journal.
Stories of each sunrise and sunset, and extra shoes to keep moving.
It looked as though he were carrying a large load, but even the call of the bird’s eye view made him know he was carrying a bigger load than mankind could bare for him.
That he was quiet and alone.
That his foot steps were the only song that he could stand.
And that life on the road toward the next quiet spot kept a timid, fragile soul at peace, longing for the next view.
(I’ll be back shortly guys, hold tight)
Short Stories
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