Scribbled poems And Thoughts. I love, Romance, eroticism, I adore passion . Either we burn Or we never light Those matches.
https://kiyyascribbles.blogspot.com/
Monday, June 1, 2020
He took a deep breath upon waking up, his eyes aching, despite the lovely night of sleep he had.
But then he noticed she was missing from the side of their bed, the sheets left cold and without her lavender scent.
This was worrying. Why had he not felt her leaving in the night? He stood up and walked to the kitchen, wondering if she was there.
She wasn't.
He made two cups of coffee, and walked around their house looking for her.
Nowhere.
It was like she had faded off the world without a trace.
Perhaps it was the forest that resided from across them, just a lake away.
He looked towards its presence. There was nothing radiating from it, as if the very barrier of pine trees was an illusion of something far more grievous, more sinister.
Clean So he walked onto the balcony overlooking the grayish sands of the small bay.
The dock rocked, empty without a boat. But he found a trace of lavender lingering in the crisp autumn air.
It was a hunch he took, as he packed a bag of supplies, checked the doors, and took a rusted lantern from their ancient shed, a hunch that, perhaps, she was taken by fiends of the forest.
He looked at the murky lake water, its depths empty and void of life.
His feet carried him onto the water, and he began walking towards the forest that was more deadly than it was kind.
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