(Credit: wallpaperstock.net)
In the pink morning, I imagine holding my whole mess of troubles out in front of me. Listening to the susurrating grass, I let the every worry be snatched away by the wind. They tumble and roll through the air, until they reach the colourful clouds. There they leech on, turning the clouds black, and the quiet morning fills with lightning and rolling thunder. Just like that my worries become everyone’s problem.
So I decide to keep my troubles inside instead.
Where they fester.
A Bolg? 
Rhino House
/ November 14, 2016On behalf of the rest of us a hearty “thank you.” 😉
W. R. Woolf
/ November 14, 2016You are welcome 🙂
shaunkellett
/ November 14, 2016Loved this piece; such imagery! Conveyed your message so well.
W. R. Woolf
/ November 14, 2016Thank you, I’m glad you liked it 🙂
Widdershins
/ November 15, 2016When that festering finally explodes, it’s gonna be nasty! … good story. 🙂
W. R. Woolf
/ November 15, 2016You better keep an umbrella handy. Thank you 🙂