The expanse of darkness goes on for eternity. The void juggles me awkwardly in a floating fashion, that is admittedly relaxing.
By Jaecob Neal2 years ago in Poets
Imagine if you will, a hearth filled to the brim with dry hay. This is a lonely person’s soul. No attachments or heat in them.
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I was unfortunate enough to witness the truth of that statement when I was seven.
By Jaecob Neal2 years ago in Fiction