He knitted skies of ink, eyelids growing heavier with each stitch. Sitting in the skies amongst the stars he would work away, resisting the succumbing urge to fall into the few clouds and deep into slumber and dreams of daylight dancing in his subconscious.768Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOl71raLEVX
768Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjHBn3Ah59D
Click, clack, the metal needles were smooth against his own rough fingers, as they would bound the strange fabric blanket of black.768Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbRgQ3ogpFE
768Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRwyr7RtNfW
He didn't feel anything, mindlessly working away as if he were just a machine, possibly even in need of oiling. It's gears had a thirst for apperception, not ostracism into the depths of the dark abyss.768Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ47FoMBtbjH
768Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyQfnJTEJP4
Cold chills would find their way into his soft black sweater with encrusted with moonstones. It was a gift from the moon itself, and funnily enough, it was his birthstone, and it's precious gems fitted his aesthetic beautifully. But nevertheless, no matter how pretty he looked, he still felt nothing inside of him, like another hollowed tree deep in the forest, withered in solitary.768Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqAL61o7ks7
768Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj4wawfD4qU
Watching from afar, he was only a cluster of stars, suspended in the cold, completely bereft of life.
Penana
search
Loginarrow_drop_down
Registerarrow_drop_down
