It takes time
to realize that the world has indeed ended and everyone that matters
is long gone and the screaming, yawning void inside
can’t be filled by tears.
It takes time
for the tattered remains of purpose in life
to knit back into the fabric of a day.
For the joy of survival to carry any meaning and
for life to go on.
It takes time
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
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