Work Text:
Empty. The town was simply empty. It had not always been, but, then again, it had not always been full. The town grew and shrunk in record time, leaving only remnants. There, on the table, a letter partially penned. The handwriting is sloppy as if written by one out of practice. The sentences are equally clumsy. There are eraser marks leaving text upon smudged-away text trying and failing to communicate a thought. But it remains incomplete. Unsent. Unmade. A town dusty and out of practice at having people in it. Its people are gone, their memory but a passing thought.
Shuufleur Wed 03 Apr 2024 05:51PM UTC
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